


Autonomy

by Aladayle



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: And one of Gero's experiments, Cell is creepy, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, For a biped on Earth anyway, Oral Sex, Reader is an android, Seriously the canon of this fic is like 90 percent TFS, Sex against a ladder, TFS References, Time Travel, Weird Biology, cell's got a slimy prehensile dick, threesome?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-05-25 21:41:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 23,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6211192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aladayle/pseuds/Aladayle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're an unwilling lab assistant to Dr. Gero. Years ago you made a horrible mistake you paid greatly for. You've seen countless experiments pass through the lab, but now there's a new one he's growing, a mish-mash of others' DNA...and you are determined to help it have the choice you never got to make. Will it be enough?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Embryo

**Author's Note:**

> A longtime request. I have only one other possible idea at the moment and then I swear I won't write a new one for awhile! XD
> 
> Starting in the beginning here.

### The Embryo

Your first error had been to question Dr. Gero's ethics. 

You could almost, almost understand chemically enhancing soldiers. But to take someone and add something to their body? To put in mechanics and circuits, and...and things like that? It...it just didn't feel right. You had no positive feelings about any outcome that could result from something like that. 

You didn't know when it happened, but... 

But you'd woken up in a test tank, and noticed a scar on your chest that hadn't been there before. That, however, was neither the only change Gero had made, nor the only one he _would_ make. Over the next few years you found yourself more often in that same tank, and...and you didn't want to think what else. Often you would wake up with newer modifications, or your skin having changed in a slight way somehow. Now and again your hair would fall out. Sometimes he would put you through combat training to test out strengthening compounds and electronic enhancements he'd given you. 

And then had come the tail...You didn't know what it was, and the ability to control it was more than a little frightening, but you had to stay sane. So you chose to wonder how he'd done it. It was green, and you found to your additional shock that your skin had taken on a greenish tint as well. 

"You can control it?" 

That voice. Gods, how you hated that voice. So detached, impassionate...empty. 

"Y...yes." 

"Flex the tip." 

You looked away, and glanced at the end of the tail as you tried to do as he asked. To your surprise, the almost needle-thin pointed end of the tail expanded a little. 

Gero kept making you use the tail, and as you expected, you had to keep it. Further experiments were performed on it and you found to your horror that it functioned like a syringe...but...what for? What was it for? 

Escape was a virtual impossibility. He made no secret of the fact that he'd planted a bomb in your chest--and he'd shown you the data, the x-rays, and so forth, on it to be sure you understood he wasn't lying. 

The years passed. 

Then the twins appeared, the ones he'd called 17 and 18. 

You'd gotten along with them decently, but... 

...but, you were ashamed to say, they were far gutsier than you. They had the bombs the same as you did, and yet they defied him every chance they got. 18 all but ignored you, but 17 at least had the decency to speak to you. "Go outside and actually take in some air," he'd said, "Helps the complexion." 

But you didn't. You stayed in the lab nearly all the time now...what was the point of leaving? Why even try? And why did _they_ persist in disobedience? Weren't they afraid of what Gero might do? 

In the end, rather than utilizing the bombs in their chests, he had simply deactivated them, put them to sleep. You asked why this was--making clear, of course, that you were simply curious rather than accusing him of anything. 

"You should know better, (y/n)," Gero said, "You're a woman of science, aren't you? When the experiment goes awry, you save it if possible and make your modifications later. You don't simply throw a valuable piece of equipment away when it fails to function in the correct way--and you build failsafes, of course. In any case, they have a purpose to serve--so their defiance has little point anyway. They simply don't know it yet." 

* * *

"What is this?" 

You were looking at the little figure in the test tank. Up until now Gero had not even mentioned it to you, but you were sure that this thing had to have been worked on for a long time...if the data readouts were any indication, anyway. And then...was that Gero's voice plugged into it? 

"My greatest work, and your new assignment." 

"How do you mean?" 

"I mean he is the new purpose of your life." 

"You already know it's a he?" 

"Of course I know it's a he, I designed him that way! Idiot..." 

"I didn't think you were working on something purely biological like this. I thought..." 

"You thought, and assumed, rather than researched...and that is why you are the assistant and I am the scientist." 

You paused again, listening to the muffled voice, and then said, "Is that a recording of your voice?" 

"Yes," he replied curtly. "Now enough questions. How do his vitals look?" 

He'd stuck around for hours, but when Gero finally left you took a listen to the recordings. Goku this...Goku that, he has to die, you must be the one to kill him, this is your only purpose... Who the hell was this Goku? 

The recording cut off, and you saw the little thing kick. 

So...he was doing it. Gero was actually doing things the right way this time, and you were surprised he hadn't thought to do it sooner. Brainwash a child from the surrogate womb to do his bidding...he was both disgusting and a genius. 

...and it made you angry. You were one thing, you'd gotten into this mess by your own mistakes, by your own stupid, foolish choices. But this little thing hadn't asked for this. It hadn't chosen to work for a madman, it hadn't asked to be born. It hadn't asked to have "Kill Son Goku" seared into its very consciousness. And against your better judgment, pushing aside your own fear, you decided to do something about it. 

You decided to make some recordings of your own. Short ones, ones that you could play during occasional half-hours of time when you were completely sure Gero was asleep or off getting more supplies or whatever the hell he did when he left the lab. Centuries-old symphonies, comedians' standup routines, newer songs--anything you could edit into five minute chunks. 

But most importantly, you kept a small rotation of little 'lectures' you made yourself. 

"You have a choice," you said during one, "Don't forget that. You're not a mindless puppet, you are alive, and you can decide the course of your own life." 

He seemed to like hearing that.


	2. The Female

### The Female

It'd been a year, and things were...well, not that much different. The thing that Gero was calling Cell was growing at a surprising rate, and in this time had increased to the size of what you'd guess was a child of six or seven. Everything was proportioned correctly, and his vitals remained as stable as ever.

You'd dealt with everything as well as you could. Gero'd done a few more experiments on you and you were finding to your disgust that the tail was taking up a little more of your back and had gotten a little bit longer. Your skin's green tinge had gone from a sickly shade to a darker one. And the spots...well, they'd spread.

Every time you looked in the mirror, all you saw was a monster.

But you went on. There were the stars (you'd always loved watching them, and astronomy was one of the few hobbies Gero seemed to allow you to have). Oddly, you'd been allowed to convert an empty room into a hydroponics bay of sorts, and pretty soon you had all kinds of food growing. Considering the rocky landscape outside, this was your best option--he'd said this would cut down on his need to leave the lab. You shook your head. As unethical and evil as he was, he was still a scientist at heart. If he didn't have to leave the lab, he never would.

Funny, you thought--you went through school for what would ultimately end up as being a scientific nanny/glorified housekeeping job.

As Cell began to get bigger, though, Gero made a new demand: your blood. Until Cell was physically able to leave the tank, he needed more sustenance than what he had been getting, and this was one of the ways to get it to him. Despite the fact that he seemed to have more than enough blood from...wherever the hell he was getting his supplies, Gero continued to approach you every nine weeks for this little "donation."

Time went on.

You spent more time around Cell's tank, continuously checking on his vitals and so forth. As he grew, you noted the similarities between the modifications Gero'd made to you, and the way he was developing. It took a while, but finally, it clicked--he hadn't been doing this to you merely out of some malicious cruelty (well, that was probably part of the reason, but still), he'd been doing it to test things out on you before he moved on to use them on Cell. You weren't just being changed for the sake of changing, you were the guinea pig to see if these things would work on his growth of a new being.

It was small comfort, but anymore you got that where you could.

Another year. Cell continued to thrive and was now nearly the size of a grown man, and Gero strangely seemed to be in a far better mood than he usually was. You wondered what innocent life he'd snuffed out to be radiating smug happiness like that.

You sat down across from the tank with your labcoat off and your tail draped across your knees as you stuck the needle into the vein in your arm and let the process of collecting the allotted portion of blood go on. When it was over you shut the thing off, removed the needle and put a bandage over the tiny wound.

And then, suddenly, you heard a rattling sound. A few seconds went by, then thirty, then a minute...it wasn't letting up.

It wasn't mechanical in nature--at least, you didn't think so. In fact, it sounded a little bit muffled. You stood up wearily, and munched on the Snickers bar you'd brought in to help you recover from the blood loss. You double-checked the input areas of the nutritional system Gero had set up for Cell, and all around the room, until finally, you wandered back over to the tank itself and looked up. 

He was looking at you. Cell's eyes were open and he was looking at you. 

And it was from him that the rattling sound was emanating. 

You could see his tail flexing, just as yours had, and his head tilted very briefly when you raised your tail--taking it in your hands to show him. You wanted him to realize that you were a safe person and that there was no need to fear you. Not that you were the same, but that...well, you weren't sure, exactly, but you wanted him to trust you. The rattling continued. 

What on earth was that about? Was it his only means of communication? Perhaps he was capable of speaking, but chose not to. Or perhaps he was listening to Gero's recordings and saw you as being unworthy of speaking to. But you hadn't heard Gero saying that he'd spoke... 

He raised one of his hands to touch the glass and the rattling got even louder--and then suddenly stopped. The lab door had opened, and Gero was heading towards you, buttoning up his labcoat. 

Why had it stopped? 

"Have you finished up yet?" he asked. 

"No," you said quickly, "There was a weird noise from the console and I was checking it out. A key was loose, that's all." 

"Good," he replied, glancing up at Cell--who'd shut his eyes. "Go ahead and get it into the nutrient system." 

"Alright." 

* * *

The rattling sound kept coming back--sometimes you could be across the room and he'd start it up, then it would get quieter as you came closer. As the next year wound on he seemed to watch you constantly. You felt like you were making real progress--or at least as much as you could feel that, seeing as how he wasn't able to speak or really communicate at the moment outside of that noise. 

And then one afternoon, as you were switching one of your five minute recordings ( _Danse Macabre_...or rather, most of it) in over Gero's lectures, the man himself walked into the lab. 

Your pulse quickened and you walked over quickly. "Is there anything you need help with, doctor?" 

"No," he replied, "And yes. I want you to remain down here with him for the next day. I have something extremely delicate to work on in the upper lab and I don't wish to be contaminating the results with too many hands." 

You just nodded. You could do that. You had a cot in a supply room and of course you kept food down here as well, so there'd be no issues with keeping yourself occupied and fed and such. Privately you wondered what he was doing that required so much secrecy, but...prying would do you no good. 

He left. For an hour or two there were no sounds outside of the norm, which had changed to include Cell's rattle. You were heading to the supply room for a nap when you heard the first of several explosions. 

You moved under a doorway, and wondered what the hell was going on. But before you could react any further, the next one kicked off. There were raised voices. Yelling. Yet another explosion. 

Aside from everything being shaken down here, though, it was all fine. Everything that could possibly fall over near Cell was bolted down in any way possible. 

You hardly dared to make a noise, but after the last explosion the voices' yelling stopped, and there was silence again. 

It wasn't until the next day that you were able to gather the courage to see what all the commotion had been about. You went to the upper lab... 

The front doors were gone. Absolutely gone. 

"Doctor?" you called out. 

Nothing. No reprimands for coming up earlier than expected, none for doing so late...there was simply no reply to be heard. 

You looked around the room further, wondering if someone had found him out. But if that were the case, wouldn't this place be swarming with agents or cops or who knew what else? You noticed one thing for sure, though--17 and 18's pods were empty. 

Finally, though, you found Gero. 

Or at least...pieces of him.


	3. Cicada

### Cicada

You took immediate advantage of Gero's absence (after disposing of his body, of course). Aside from mentally being glad that 17 and 18 had escaped, you were glad that you'd no longer have to worry about Gero's infecting Cell with his ideas of killing whoever that 'Goku' was.

You switched off all of Gero's lectures and started putting on your own previous ones. You also made longer tracks of music and such, and one thing more--silence. He got six hours every night of sweet silence. Any more than that and you noticed that he'd start getting upset again. Ultimately, you'd prefer to give him more than that, but it could be worked up to, you supposed. 

When he slept, you slept. 

You'd looked around for wherever Gero might have been sleeping, thinking that he probably had a better bed than you, but you found that you were wrong. All you saw was another cot--albeit, with a slightly nicer pillow and blanket, which you took quickly for yourself. But it was odd--it didn't look as if it had been slept in for a long time! Did he just sleep at his desk or something? No wonder his wrinkles had wrinkles. It was amazing he'd managed to make it to the age that he had, if he had habits like that. 

At least you had internet access again. You found that 17 and 18 were causing a whole hell of a lot of havoc, but to be honest, you weren't about to go getting in their way. They'd seemed relatively friendly to you (especially 17) but you really weren't sure about them, considering the evidence that they'd killed Gero, and the rampage that they now appeared to be going on. Maybe being locked up like they had been for years in the pods like that had driven them mad. Who knew. 

And so the next year passed. 

There wasn't much of a way to get out of the lab safely--how, you wondered, had Gero been getting all the supplies? Was he flying them in? The nearest town was at least a hundred miles away and there weren't really any roads outside the lab, or even decent paths down. Judging by the shape that 17 and 18 were keeping things in outside, you felt that it was best to wait until Cell was fully grown. Why you thought this, you had no idea, but it was something that kept repeating in your head, over and over. Ha, it was probably Gero's fault, maybe he had a tape or two that he played on repeat when _you_ were asleep. 

You started going through his files as best you could, and after a lot of trying (what the hell kind of a password was 16LapisLazuli19nijuu21?) you got into the file he'd been keeping on you. Most of it had been hidden under another layer of encryption, but what you could see confirmed your earlier suspicion: you were just an experiment to see what was safe, what would work, and what didn't. He also seemed to speak of you as "the female" rather than by your name. It was too bad that he was dead already or you'd have killed him for that...as long as you could be sure he wouldn't have blown you up. That thought had you looking for information on the bomb in your chest, but that, like most of the other files you wanted to see more of, was unavailable to you. No password you could think of worked this time. Maybe he'd counted on you breaking through the first layer...? 

At about this point, summer hit, and despite how unprofessional it was you spent most of your time in shorts and a regular old T-shirt in the lab. It wasn't like the various little power supplies couldn't handle the warm weather--it's just that you were really more interested in comfort at this point. Years of wearing that damned lab coat and "sensible" clothes, and proper shoes that hurt had made you want to do something more interesting. 

Despite being almost completely alone, you were comfortable. Gero's threats weren't hanging over you and you had pretty much free run of his lab. If the students back at university could see you now! In possession of one of the most high-tech labs in the world...and you weren't doing very much with it. You thought briefly of getting in contact with some of your old friends, but when you didn't receive any messages back after checking up on them, you just gave up. 

You'd just given your latest little "donation" to Cell (more to conserve the nutrients still available than anything at this point) and were heading back up to the upper lab when you noticed the sun going down. Realizing that it had been a while since you'd had the chance to look at the stars, you headed outside and smiled as one by one they appeared. It was nice, despite the heat that had you sweating like hell. You thought night-time was supposed to be cooler than this! 

After a couple hours of looking over the constellations and spotting Venus in an interesting light, you headed back inside and flicked on the secondary doors. It seemed that Gero had planned for something like this to happen, and you were grateful...it kept the bugs out at night. 

Almost as soon as you switched on the lights, you heard it again. 

The rattling. 

It sounded different this time... 

You went down to the lower lab, pulling the labcoat back on, and stopped cold when Cell's tank came into sight. 

There was a huge hole in the side, and it was completely empty. The fluid from his tank was all over the ground and the wires were going ape. You ran over, suddenly glad for the sensible rubber-soled shoes, and switched the power to it off. 

The rattling got louder again. 

"Cell?" you called out, looking around. 

Unsteady breathing. More rattling. 

"Cell, if you're out of the tank I need to be sure that you're...alright." 

" _Oh, I'm fine..._ " 

"So you can talk!" you said, still looking around for him. Where the hell was he? 

Nothing. 

You tried to pinpoint the sound of the rattling--not an easy task in this echo-chamber of a room. But you finally picked a direction and headed for that corner of the lab. Nothing. Another corner. Nothing. Third corner... 

He was crouched over something. 

"Cell, are you...are you alright? Everything functioning normally? Nothing hurting or--" 

"Fully functional." He seemed to stand, and turned to walk towards you. The rattling (which you noticed was coming from somewhere around his midsection) had stopped. Completely. 

You hadn't realized until now just how much taller he was, and felt your tail twitching a little in sudden fear. It curled in front of you, and you clutched at it. 

"Why so scared, little bird? I won't bite." 

This was not what you had expected. 

"Much." 

At all.


	4. Retractable Collapsible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His figurative nose tells him that you're one of his kind, and that you're quite available. It wouldn't lie to him, would it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex occurs in this chapter.
> 
> Feel free to imagine him in a different form if this one disturbs you. X-Readers are about imagination, after all. ;) (I just happen to think this one's rather handsome once you get used to it) 
> 
> Also thanks to stinkerson_bramblepelt for the phallus idea.
> 
> * * *

### Retractable Collapsible

*Dr. Gero's POV*

_Is this thing on? Ah, good. I need to replace it sometime or the other, I've practically worn it out._

_The female's biological changes are coming along nicely, and without mucking up the superior genetics (and intelligence) that made me decide on her in the first place. The tail took, and that's the part that gave me the most worry, but with that out of the way it seems as if her place in the experiment will hold. She's going to be part of an amazing piece of science. And if she ends up not working out? There's always a way to dispose of her..._

_These changes have been coming on ever since I first started to make additions to her body, and I've tried to be as careful as possible to avoid any **overly** unpleasant physical reactions. Were she to catch on it would be necessary to detonate the bomb in her chest and considering her ongoing usefulness (aside from her main "assignment") as a lab assistant, I would prefer to avoid that._

_Samples have indicated the presence of the proper pheromones in the sufficient levels in the female's sweat, although quite by accident she seems to produce them without being at all aroused...or she is almost constantly? She does spend most of her time alone..._

_...I certainly didn't mean for **that** to happen, but in any case, her scent is going to grab his figurative nose the second he gets anywhere near her, and it's going to tell him that she is one of his kind and ready for the taking. He'll be done growing in a couple years around summertime and she'll likely be doing her little star-watching thing (which I've encouraged, for obvious reasons). I'll just arrange for her to be in the lower lab when the time is right, and let nature take its course._

_Things will be easier after he's obtained his perfect form, but it never hurts to be prepared in case something goes wrong._

_She's not pure like he is, but she's a good start. And besides...diversity is good for the gene pool. It will allow me to see what combinations result and whether his or hers are dominant._

* * *

*Your POV*

"I don't...understand." You were shaking, looking up at this enormous buglike man standing a few feet away. It looked only vaguely like the large cicada-like thing that you'd gotten so used to seeing. "You're..."

Slow, deep breathing. Laughter under his breath.

"What do you want?"

"You really don't know...he left me a treat, didn't he...?" Cell took a step forward, into better light, and you could see the slime dripping on nearly all parts of his body, probably from breaking out of what was left of his former body. You would think that this kind of a transformation was nigh on impossible. Gero was a genius. Evil and insane...but a genius. Look at this thing, he's fully bipedal, and capable of speech, and...

His tail drifted between you, tugging your own out of your hands.

"Has anyone ever told you..." Cell grinned, as best one without proper lips could do, "...that you smell positively, overpoweringly divine?"

"I--"

The cat-like eyes drifted down over your figure. 

Your mind was racing, suddenly afraid of what this...this thing was obviously thinking. Your skin was the same shade of green as most of his was, but unlike him, you had a distinct lack of any sort of chitin. Your eyes were still human, and as for the...softer bits of your body, they were relatively unchanged. How could he not know that you weren't one of his species? 

But wait...he'd said _smell_. He hadn't complimented your face, or your chest, or anything else about your looks in any way--he'd mentioned your scent.

Had Gero...? Were you...?

You shivered when he reached out in what you'd almost call a curious fashion. "I watched you," he said, pushing your labcoat (which you'd slipped on in a hurry) up and then back, so it simply fell to the floor, "Every day, I watched you, this little thing who took care of me not to further a goal, but because she wanted to."

It was a nice sentiment, and for a moment you calmed down--but only for a moment. Almost as soon as he finished that sentence, his hands settled on your hips.

"You can't just--"

"You always responded to that little song of mine. I didn't know what it was for initially, but I found out when you kept looking up at me, or walking over, whenever I made it."

Did he just enjoy the sound of his own voice? Was he under the impression that this talk was at all soothing to you?

"...and then I got out of that blasted tank and felt like I'd wandered into an all-you-can-eat buffet, because that aroma was _everywhere_."

You tried to move away, but he held you in place, and laughed.

"Don't spoil this, little bird. I have to figure out your body somehow. You've got softer bits than I have." Again with that disturbing lipless grin.

"Look, whatever Gero told you, he was _wrong_ , alright? I'm not one of your...I haven't..." again, you were shaking.

"Are you really so afraid of me?" He leaned his head closer, at a bit of an awkward angle, too, due to your difference in height. "Well, then, I'll try to be gentle...I wouldn't want to injure my only chance for..."

He started to get closer and you put your hand against his chest to push him back. "No."

More laughter. "You have a purpose. You're going to serve it, just as I will serve mine."

You froze in shock as he stripped your shirt off--not through a lack of fighting, but a lack of speed. You barely blinked and suddenly your arms were over your head and your shirt was gone. "But you've got a choice, you don't _have_ to--"

"I am choosing it. What else am I going to do?"

"You were supposed to--"

"Do as you wanted? Is that it?" Yet again, that creepy-ass laugh that sent another wave of chills down your spine.

"I didn't mean it that way."

"But you did, didn't you. Were you afraid of what I might do to you if I didn't make the choice you wanted me to?"

You looked away.

"Well...there's no chance of your being...injured." Cell pulled you flush against his chest and his rattling started again. "Now...enough talking." 

This time it was softer, and you felt an odd inclination when the vibrations started: this was perfectly normal. You were supposed to be here. Wait--no. No, you weren't. You were of course of a mind to take care of him, but this was just a step too far. You jolted slightly a second or two later when you felt your back muscles spasming painlessly, almost in time with Cell's little song. 

You took a deep breath when he released you... 

...and bolted for the ladder to the upper lab. You were nearly up it when you felt his hand on your ankle and despite clinging for dear life to the rung you'd just grabbed were pulled back down, your nearly-bare back pressed against the cold metal a few feet from the bottom, and your feet scrambling for traction. 

"Mid-air, hmm?" 

"I never--you can't--I won't--" 

"Is my little bird a virgin?" 

"You don't even know what that word means." You snarled. You thrashed your tail despite it being threaded through the gap between two rungs, and Cell responded by intertwining it tightly with his. 

"Oh, but I do. Do you think a scientist who creates new life is going to let that life figure everything out on its own? " Cell seemed to smirk. "You might want to hold on, I'd hate to drop you." 

It was like something out of a sci-fi movie or something, watching Cell look over your body while you gripped at a rung of the ladder behind your back. He knew what to do, or so he'd said, but there was still that curiosity. There was the seemingly unignorable need for sex (or rather, the urge to breed...the second _that_ thought entered your head you shoved it right back out), but also the general interest in something he'd not seen before: a woman's nude body. 

_He's not going to let that go on too much longer_ , you thought sarcastically. Every muscle in your body that wasn't in pain was beginning to grow exhausted. The air down in the lower lab was warm, and you were already sweating bullets as it is, so between the panic from a futile resistance and the heat and the impending sex, you weren't in much shape to resist him. 

After stripping off your shorts, shoes, underwear, and then your bra (that had to be torn off; he was either too focused on the job at hand or too lazy to undo it), he smirked and seized your feet with his own, forcing your legs apart, yet somehow not leaning on anything himself. You cringed as your ankles ground against the outside rail of the ladder, and felt your heart rate jump again when his hands started to move over your chest. It felt disgusting; especially since he still didn't appear completely dry from breaking out of his former shell. 

"I can see why men like these." 

You didn't answer. You shut your eyes and tried not to cringe as he squeezed again and again at your breasts. 

"Don't." you begged. Why? Gero had planned, this, hadn't he? Cell'd mentioned your scent, then there was his rattle, and there was that skin he'd shed... 

The dawning light of realization hit your face. Of course. Of course! You should've figured it out before now. The scent had to be something Gero had rigged your body to produce en masse to drive Cell to desire you. And the rattle was obviously some sort of a mating call...something he'd do regardless, something that would draw you, and that scent, towards him. You'd heard all this before in some nature documentary or the other about a bug whose name escaped you. By the gods, if you hadn't already disposed of Gero's body you'd be determined to find a way to revive him and kill him again just for the hell of it. 

He ignored that, and laughed when you tried closing your legs. "If you do that again I might have to get rough with you. And I don't think you want that." 

You stopped moving. 

"Or maybe," he said, raising you up so your eyes were at roughly chest-level, "...maybe you _want_ that." 

"No, I don't, I--" your voice caught in your throat when Cell pulled your legs up around him; your knees ended up clenching at his sides. This was happening. It was actually happening. You were trembling even more so than you had up to this point, and when he moved his hand downward you clamped your eyes shut. 

But when nothing happened immediately, you glanced down--and boy, did you regret that. 

The rough-looking orange area at his crotch was gone, presumably folded in, and emerging was--oh gods. 

Oh, no. 

That was never going to fit. 

It was a dull white towards the back, an equally drab shade of lavender towards the tip, as smooth as the steel he had you pressed against...and it was _big_. 

And just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, it wriggled, accidentally touching your leg, and you realized something else. It was absolutely _soaked_ with what you could only guess was mucus, which was trickling off of it in drops here and there. 

"Don't." You begged again. 

Again, Cell ignores you, and his dick, seemingly with a mind of its own, slithered between your legs and started teasing at your entrance. You bit your tongue to stop yourself from making a sound, but couldn't control the yelp that resulted when he turned you both around. Now, his back was to the ladder and he was holding you so that you were leaning back and down--not only at a good level to get at you, but also to see your face. 

"Please--" you started. 

"I'll be slow," he smirked, "I want to enjoy this." The hand that wasn't supporting you at your back's midpoint was on your hip, urging you down onto him. 

And slow Cell was. As he penetrated you, it was like nothing you'd ever expected. You were being stretched, almost beyond what you thought you could stand. It hurt. It hurt right away, and continued to do so the farther into you it went, until he was in to the hilt. 

"I can't," you said, gasping in sudden pain, "You're...I can't." 

And then you felt it, felt the trickle, and it really hit you that the game was over. That this...this whatever-he-was, had taken the last thing you had left that he could possibly steal. You felt tears pricking at your eyelids at the thought. 

"So my little bird was a virgin," he looked down, seeming to smirk at the sight of the drops of blood, "Perfect." 

Fear flashed through your eyes and he grinned, suddenly pulling you up with both his arms around so your head rested against that black biogem on his chest. Your arms were pinned at your sides. 

And then Cell starts to fuck you. 

It's not only that he's big, it's that while he's thrusting, that bicolored member of his is never staying completely still. Inside you, it's twisting and turning, pulling back and pushing forward. 

He's moving slowly, but it's almost as if he's exploring or looking for something than just the idea of enjoying himself. 

You make a sound almost like a squeak when he moves over a spot that makes your knees weaken. 

He seems to laugh, and is sure to assault that same place over and over again. You're trying not to respond to all this, but it's getting difficult when he keeps going over that same spot that just makes your whole body burn. Your eyes've stayed shut this whole time, and you try to picture someone else, anyone but him, anyone you might even _vaguely_ have liked, hell even 17 would be better than him at this point-- 

"Eyes open," Cell growled, one hand entangling itself in your hair and pulling your head back. You were at a very uncomfortable angle and had to arch your back to stave off the pain, but he'd accomplished what he wanted to: he could see your eyes, could see the mix of pain and pleasure he was bringing you. 

"How can you even TELL?!" You burst out, but a second later an involuntary moan crossed your lips, followed quickly by another. He kept going, forcing that sound out of you over and over again. Within, you could feel a sudden sensation of climbing--and knowing what it was, what it meant, scared you even more. What if--what if you--? 

"I want to hear your voice, birdie," he forced out, "You're close. I can feel it in your breathing." 

"I won't..." 

"If you don't," Cell replied, breathing getting a bit ragged as he kept going, "Well, I think you know..." 

You were already filled enough, and despite not fully believing him, you gave him what he wanted. You stopped keeping quiet and let every little moan that wanted out, out. It seemed to excite him, because he moves faster and deeper every time you cry out for him, until with every thrust you're taking him to the hilt and back out again. 

And finally, on one of his inward thrusts, fully sheathing him, your first orgasm hits you and you let out what could almost be considered a scream--not even hearing whatever the hell kind of a sound he made. But you _felt_ his finish, that was for sure, felt that sickening liquid warmth spreading in that deep part of you. 

That bastard _lied_ to you! 

After a minute or so's rest through the afterglow, he lets you go--at least, off of him, anyway. With your direction he takes you back to where you've got the cot in the backroom, and in an odd display of what you'd almost call affection, places you on it and covers you up with your blanket. 

Then he turned to leave, promising to "bring his little birdie something to eat." 

As you turn away, too tired even to cry, you don't notice his tail flexing as he speaks.


	5. Newly Turned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cell makes a pun.

### Newly Turned

You slept--not well, but certainly deeply, and when you woke up yawning, you felt decently rested. 

Then you realized you were nude, and it all rushed back. His "hatching", the mentioning of your scent, and how he'd just basically jumped you. Nothing you'd done had been able to stop Cell from getting what he wanted; thanks to Gero, he'd wanted _you_. 

Shakily, you wandered into the tiny bathroom and showered as best you could, fighting back the tears. You'd thought your life couldn't get much worse after that whole being an experiment thing that Gero started with you. He'd died, and you'd had a temporary reprieve...but it had been only that. Temporary. 

The nightmare had begun anew. 

Cell had made a choice, alright, but it was to do exactly what Gero had told him to. In retrospect, you realize that you should have expected something like this to happen. You could really only do what you had done--try. And in the end, your caring just hadn't been enough to stop Gero's brainwashing him. 

You sat crying for an hour or two before dragging yourself out of the bathroom and getting dressed for the day. You'd figure something out...if what caused this was what you thought, you might be able to do something about it. There was always the chance of "he's just used to you" happening, too, but it was a goal to work towards, something to stop your time becoming consumed by the fear of his lust. 

You heard the secondary doors open and close, and ducked into the little hydroponics bay. The smaller fruiting plants were producing at an excellent rate, it looked like, and you were glad that food wasn't something you'd had to worry about. You plucked a strawberry and started eating. 

That tall shadow darkened the doorway, and you heard his mouth-breathing, followed by an odd dragging sound. 

"I brought you something," you heard him say. "To eat, I mean." 

"I already have something to eat." You said, waving your hand vaguely at the small pot you'd plucked the strawberry from. 

"You can't expect to live just on things that grow. What are you, a rabbit?" Cell laughed. "Turn around." 

You did as he asked, and had to stifle a gasp when you noticed the unconscious man on the ground. 

"I'm not a cannibal," you replied, "I don't _eat_ people, you know." 

"It occurred to me that you didn't know what your tail was for," he said, completely ignoring everything that came out of your mouth. 

"It's just a thing Gero did to see if yours would be any good. It doesn't actually do anything." 

"If he went to all the trouble of giving you one, it does something. Now." He kicked the unconscious man, which turned him on his back. "Let me show you." 

You looked as his tail leapt around his side and the very tip of it stopped mere inches away from the man's throat. 

"Right there." 

"Right there, what?" 

"It's a good place to start, anyway, when you don't know how to use what you've got. Just shove the end of your tail in there about halfway, and let your body take over from there." 

Your eyes widened. What the hell did he mean by that? Eating...wait...no, he couldn't possibly mean... 

"If you're not hungry, we could always--" 

You edged the tip of your tail up to the soft skin of the man's neck. Quaking, you forced the sharp end of it in, until, as he'd said, it was about halfway buried. 

"Tight, isn't it?" 

"I...I think I hit his jugular..." you said, tripping over your words. Why was he having you do this? You were doing just fine on food, why was he trying to make you... 

"That's great!" 

You were about to wonder what to do next when the end of your tail pulsed a bit, and you were struck with an odd, consumptive urge. It contracted, and you encouraged the intake. It was mercy, you told yourself. You were giving this man a quick death. 

It was like having a second mouth, only it had barely any taste--that, or the metallic tinge you were getting was all there was _to_ taste. The muscles were weak, so the process was slow, but you could... 

...wait, were you getting _full_? 

As you were musing over that, though, you noticed that the man was...oh gods. 

To say that you felt nauseated was an understatement. You started to withdraw your tail. 

"It's impolite to leave food just sitting around, you know." 

Pushing back the sick feeling in your gut, you went back in, and covered your eyes as you felt the last of the man disappear into your tail. 

You burst into tears. That felt awful. It was disgusting, and immoral, and awful, and what about the man's life, what about life in general, why was this happening? 

But within you, you could feel something else. 

Something that wanted more. 

_Gods, I've never been so **hungry**..._

"What is this?" you barked after that thought, looking up at Cell from beside what was now only a pile of clothes, "What did you do to me?!" 

Cell just laughed. 

"Answer me!" 

"I have a better question," he replied, smirking as widely as he could, "What do you say we...go out to eat?"


	6. Elasian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you think the bomb would be more merciful a way to go.

### Elasian

*Dr. Gero's POV*

_Got a new one made. These new technologies never seem to last as long as they should._

_The female is attaching as well as I expected, no doubt thanks to the extra help I'm getting from the compound._

_Perhaps it is a bit odd to name anything after something from a science fiction television program, but I could think of nothing better to call such a chemical mix. It's brilliant, if a bit of a roundabout way to ensure the success of this little experiment. I can hardly expect this to go well if the female is repelled by his attentions, now can I?_

_I must continue to manufacture it, but he will produce it naturally. It's just a matter of time, once they've begun to copulate. It will be interesting to see her try to reconcile mentally what her body is physically telling her._

_Care will have to be taken, of course, to avoid any possibility of--damn it, already? Note to self, avoid using old batteries in a new device..._

* * *

*Your POV* 

At least it wasn't daily. 

That was what you thought whenever Cell approached you with that gleam in his eye. But he never took too long; he favored intensity, he wanted you left exhausted, drenched in sweat, clinging to him for support. But afterwards, he at least found the time to carry you back to your little cot regardless of how tired you were, to let you rest.

Whenever he left to (you assumed) eat, you went straight to work on something to counter the pheromones. It was likely that you could at the very least stifle them, and you were willing to endure a period of side-effects and nasty symptoms that testing would surely entail, if necessary. Were there the smallest possibility, it would be worth it. Of course, if you were able to fully repel him...but it was not good to aim too high just yet. You would have to endure him for a while yet, but at least you had the time. As long as you served his desire, he left you to your own devices.

It was after a week or two that he sat down to teach you how to fly. He rather enjoyed carrying you, he said, but, as he put it, "Though you might prefer being able to handle it yourself."

"Aren't you worried I'll run away from you?" you asked.

"You can't hide from me, b--"

"I wish you wouldn't call me that. My name's (y/n)."

"...birdie." Cell went on as if he hadn't even heard you. "Just remember that."

You had the distinct feeling that he was not looking for any answer that you currently wanted to give. But you constructed one you were sure he would as fast as you could put the thoughts together. "I thought you'd like that?"

He laughed, and the lesson continued. After a few days, you had a good handle on it, and he "invited" you to accompany him on one of his dinner outings.

"I still think it's wrong," you said, as he lead you out the next time, "Just...eating people like this."

"Yet you're still doing it. Tell me, do you blame the lion for eating the antelope?"

"What? No, of course not, it's a beast, it--"

"--and it needs to eat like anything else. If the lions were sentient, truly sentient, would they sit around talking about how wrong it is to kill? No. They do it because they need to eat. And so do we."

"I don't need to eat--people, I mean," you said quickly as you glanced away.

"But you have," he replied, "Now, enough arguing. I'm sure we can find someone worth your appetite. Besides myself, of course." 

"You're full of yourself." 

"Keep talking, birdie, either way, you'll end up--" 

" **Don't**." 

"--full of _me_." 

"Do you think this is funny? Is this some kind of a joke to you? If I weren't weaker than you--" 

"You are the female here. It's only natural for you to be weaker." 

You went silent and soon reached the edge of a fairly small town. The population sign's original painting had said "500," but it had been crossed out and changed to "483." 

"You can't just--I mean, people are going to _notice_ that something is wrong if you pick one or two." 

"Who said anything about just one or two?" 

"You can't possibly need more than that." You looked over at him suspiciously, as a reasonably tall man came into sight. 

Quick as a flash, the man was down, Cell's tail was in his back, and there was nothing left but the clothes. 

"The first one is always the best one...now. I'll see you in an hour. Eat well, birdie." 

"You're...joking, right?" 

But he was gone already, and despite his earlier warning that you were unable to hide from him, you ran anyway. Or rather, you flew, and you hit the nearest city in record time. 

Alright, you told yourself. You could figure something out. He'd probably finish eating, go back to the lab, and only then consider the fact that you might've escaped him. This was your chance. 

You chose a spot clear on the other side of the city--a dank set of alleyways between buildings, where really no one seemed to be. The debris was scattered quite a bit and there were dumpsters lined up near the back doors. It was beside one of these that you took a seat. 

It was a little hard to handle after getting used to the cleanliness of the lab. The ground was wet, and there were cigarettes all over the....ugh. But with every disgusted feeling you reminded yourself of being on your back, or pushed over the desk, or however he happened to want you that time, and you bore with it. 

Cigarette ashes. You were sitting on a small pile of cardboard and there were _cigarette ashes_. Surely, you thought, there was a better way. He wasn't...that bad, was he? 

Yes, you forced yourself to think. He is. I said no. He still... 

But, came the counter--it wasn't even really a rebuttal, but an odd, instinctive sort of feeling--he takes care of you. He's doing his job. Holding up his end of things. 

"I don't want him to," You said aloud, curling up with your knees against your chest, and your tail coiled around you as well, "I don't." 

You hated it, hated that feeling that had seemed to spring from nowhere. That thought was the last of the protests against your abhorrence of him--from then onward, the inclination remained in your gut. It wanted him. There was no reason for it. He'd violated you and continued to do so, all but forced you to commit-- 

Exhaustion, however, finally caught up to you, and you slept, leaning against the dumpster atop a stained bundle of cardboard. 

If your family could see you now... 

* * *

When you woke, it was dark, and your stomach was grumbling for food. The lights were all still on at the other end of the alley, so you sneaked as quietly as you possibly could to its edge. 

The first thing you noticed was the cars. It looked like the afternoon rush, with everyone stopped at the light on their way home from work, but though the light kept changing...the cars never moved. They were all empty. Some had shattered windows, some had opened doors with purses and shoes dropped on the ground. You stepped out to get a closer look and felt a chill go through your body. 

Clothes. There were clothes on the ground. 

Empty. As if... 

You tried to calm yourself, and slipped back into the alleyway--you'd seen earlier in the day that on the other side of the T-junction alley was a fruit stand, so you made your way in its direction. You could spare a few seconds to get something to eat, couldn't you? A few pears or something, perhaps, you could eat and run. 

There was very little left--an apple or two, which you finished in quick order, and (a private delight) a section with cherries, all of which you scooped into the remaining bag before heading off. 

You had some food, at least for the moment. There must be a thousand places to get food in this city, especially now. You still heard none of the usual city nightlife noises--no arguments at traffic lights, none of the beeping car horns, and no music from clubs that you passed. 

When you saw the subway entrance, you went for it. It'd be a good place to hide at the very least. But then again, if he hadn't been down there... 

You were strong enough to fight off anyone there anyway, something in your head told you. Gero had made you stronger, and with flight...you were safe. 

You were safe. 

You were GOING to be safe. 

The cold crept over you as you reached the bottom of the steps, and you shivered, but kept going. 

" _Daisy, daisy_..." 

No. No. No, no, no, no, NO! The second you heard that--that croaking, that mouth-breathing sound, wafting near, you panicked. Sure, he could follow your scent but--it couldn't have been that strong. It couldn't have--you'd flown _MILES_ , dozens of miles, how could he have followed your trail considering you spent most of it in flight? Was it that persistent? 

You moved down the second set of stairs, and took a deep breath--there were no subways at the station. Maybe...maybe if you were quick, you could get to the next one. All you had to do was follow the tracks. 

And it was exactly that, that you did. 

You reached the next station--no subway was there, either. 

And neither were there any people waiting. There were only more piles of clothes. 

"... _give me your answer, do_..." Where on earth was that coming from? It echoed so loudly... 

He'd found you. Again, he'd found you! Had he reached this place ahead of you? How was that even possible? You flew across the platform, up its adjoining stairs, and finally came to rest on the sidewalk just outside. 

Something was telling you that this was an exercise of folly, a futile mess that served only to whet his appetite for you. You shoved that thought aside as you raced for the top of one of the buildings, terror sending blood and adrenaline pumping furiously throughout your body. 

You stood now on a rooftop, and fell back against the structure on top that doubtless held the way down the building's interior. 

Yet despite your racing heart, despite your noisy breathing, and the thousand fears at the root of their distress, you heard another line. 

"... _I'm half crazy_..." 

"You...you can't have..." 

Breathless, you stumbled back as Cell stepped from behind the structure's other side. You looked up with fearfully wide, almost teary eyes at that lipless smirk. You could see a question forming on his not-lips, and spoke before he could. 

"I...I didn't want to...I was--hungry." You gestured at him with the now nearly-empty (and torn) bag of cherries. 

"There was food for you there." 

"I--you--" 

"Tsk, tsk, tsk..." he moved closer, clicking his tongue. "...birdie, if you wanted to be hunted...all you had to do was ask."


	7. On My Mind

### On My Mind

It was worrying, to say the least, and you didn't dare to mention it out loud. You didn't want him to get even the slightest hint that...

What was this?

When he looked at you, you didn't like it...until you did. So far he hadn't caught you watching him yet, but that was mainly because you'd gotten into the habit of biting your tongue, or punching a wall, or something like that. A good shock of pain dissolved that urge right quickly.

That something within you, whatever it was, wanted him. Wanted to stay near him.

And every time he "wore you out" as he took to calling it, the feeling got just a little bit stronger.

But that wasn't even the biggest problem.

"Food" getting scarce. The two of you together had begun to clear out most of the closer cities and you'd established a couple other "bases" whenever an area went mostly dry of people. You were having to go farther and farther, and over a year you'd been to more exotic locations than you'd ever dreamed of.

You would be okay without that kind of nutrition, but Cell needed more.

When he disappeared, you at first thought nothing of it. Probably he was just trying to locate a better source of the...food. That was all.

Three days...four...a week...

Maybe he just wanted time away. Maybe he'd found a good supply and you weren't going to have to worry about him for a while.

Maybe he wasn't coming back.

Oddly, when that thought came up, your stomach dropped. You thought again about it later, and the feeling repeated--less pronounced, but still definitely there.

Why?

it wasn't fair. This wasn't supposed to happen.

The dark thing that you'd been so afraid of for so long was gone. Why, then, did you crave it?

Why was there fear that he would never return?

It turned over and over in your mind every night when you went to sleep. Not that he slept, of course, but he usually stood and watched you drift off. It was maddening. One moment you were determined to flee, had made a plan, and the next there was the urge to go out looking for him.

Back and forth.

Constantly.

But just as you were beginning to really question why you still felt this way even after the time that had passed, he returned.

Standing in the doorway of the lab wearing as big a grin as one could manage without lips.

"Birdieeeee..."

Oh gods, what had he done?

You looked up. "You're...back."

"Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Well," you talked quickly, trying to get ahead of the 'Yes! Don't leave me again!' your brain was attempting to scream out, "Of course, but...why--why were you away in the first place?" 

"Looking for food, of course. I found it. Oh, did I find it...but that's not the important part. I made a few discoveries while I was out."

"Discoveries of what variety?"

"Of a time traveling variety."

"...there's no such thing." You shook your head, and shut off the console you'd been working on. In the last few days your work on the anti-pheromone-whatever-it-was had all but stopped, but you still checked up on it. "You must've eaten someone on some good LSD to believe that kind of thing."

"Well, why don't you come and look at the thing with me, then, if you don't believe me?" He laughed.

"You're going to defile some surface of it with me, aren't you."

"And you say I'm hard to read."

You almost laughed.

He lead you out--miles and miles away, really, and stopped in front of an odd-looking machine. 

"This is it?" you asked. It kind of looked like an egg, to be honest. You flew up to have a better look at the top, and took a deep breath. "There's one seat, in case you hadn't noticed. And I don't think you'll fit in there as it is, so don't suggest I sit in your lap."

"You've done it before. Plenty of times."

"Be serious." you sighed and tapped a button on the side of the glass dome. It opened, and you sat comfortably in the seat. There were coordinates...of a sort. If this was a time machine you assumed they'd be the ones from the last trip this thing made.

"I think we could both use a vacation," he said, floating on his back over your head, "Think about it. The past, it's full of people. Interesting."

"You're just hungry," you replied, "I reiterate--I could fit in here but you couldn't."

"I can revert to my other form, you know."

"I wasn't aware of that. You shouldn't assume I know everything about your biology just because you keep introducing me to it." The keys all seemed to function on this thing. Hrm...

He was at least easy enough to talk to as long as you allowed for innuendo. It seemed to come flying out whenever he was in the mood, and that could be at any point in the day so you'd just expect it from him all the time. 

The idea that you could get away occurred. If this thing was really...

...but did you...

"Birdie, come on now. Pay attention. Thinking about me should not make you so distracted. Maybe we should handle that little itch if you're going to space out." 

You felt the trace of the end of his tail around the back of your neck and bit back a shiver. "Well, whatever this does...it'll be a bit of a tight fit. Even with you in that other form."

There was a chuckle.

"Get your head out of the gutter."

"You first, birdie. Now, once we arrive..." 

* * *

It was cramped, to say the least, but at least in his other form he was unable to really get into any mischief as you hit the relevant buttons. He merely sat there, blinking at you with those little eyes and nuzzling as best he could.

It was both endearing and maddening.

The ship lurched, rose into the air, and after the brief feeling of being squashed and pulled back out again, landed. You were about to say something to him when you realized that what was in your lap was no longer that larval thing.

It was an egg.

Somewhere in the back of your mind the thought that you could destroy it took hold, and you exited the...time machine with the full intent to do so.

You raised your fist.

Clenched it.

 _You can't_. 

"I...I have to." you forced the words out, "He's just going to...to terrorize people. Drain them dry. Whole cities, gone."

But the feeling returned, and stronger this time. You bit your tongue ever so slightly and brought your fist down--!

The egg rocked, nearly falling to the ground and in a panic you stopped it before it could get there. Tears slipped out as you looked at it. Why? 

Why couldn't you do it?

You took a deep breath. If you couldn't destroy it, you could put it somewhere that it would get found. And it would either die, or give you time to get away. There were ways to cover up scent. You could manage it.

You flew up and towards where you knew the nearest forest was, until you found what you considered a suitable place. 

A tree. 

It was cracked, and on further inspection you noticed an area that you could actually crawl into comfortably. 

And there you left the egg.

You took off in flight once you had, completely and utterly afraid. 

Afraid that if you didn't leave, he'd hatch and come after you. Afraid if you didn't go that second, you'd never leave him at all.


	8. Consumed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're free at last. Why isn't that enough?

### Consumed

It didn't take long for you to start feeling like you'd made a terrible mistake.

You spent three days trying to stay away. It was three miserable days of trying to escape notice, of trying to get the courage to leave the forest and move into the city, of feeding from animals; it was easier than trying to find fruit or wild vegetables or anything, and you were damn sure it wasn't safe to go to where you thought the lab was.

There was a constant stream of conflicting signals. You were desperate for him, you wanted nothing to do with him. Every moment was an agony of indecision.

And after you finally gave in and went back...the egg was...

Well it wasn't gone. It was cracked wide open, right down the middle.

He'd left the egg, obviously. But if he wasn't there then where was he? 

That other form, the little one, maybe Cell walked off like that. There should be some kind of tracks you could follow. At the same time you wondered if he was back to his bipedal state. But if he had, you were sure you'd know it. He'd have come after you.

Right?

He had no way of knowing something hadn't chased you off, necessitating your leaving his egg where you had ...right...?

You were relieved when you found the slight prints in the dirt, and floated carefully so as to avoid scuffing them more than you had already. ...it looked like he'd turned briefly in the direction you'd gone, but...

...but then it seemed as if he'd turned back.

Where was he going?

A few hundred feet later, you got your answer in the form of a hole. A small pile of dirt in front of it told you what little you were still puzzled by. Well...he made sounds like a cicada. Maybe he had to burrow underground like one too? 

But how long would he be down there? The underground period of those creatures varied wildly. Would it be one year, two, five, ten, seventeen?

No. No, it wouldn't be that long.

You'd just have to wait, that's all.

* * *

When you heard a gunshot a few days later, you were both relieved and terrified. Relieved at the idea of seeing another living person, and terrified because...well...

...but curiosity got the better of you and you ended up flying in its direction. 

Thankfully, it only appeared to be a hunter. Or was it a hiker? Either way he had a rifle and a big backpack with him.

Your tail twitched, and inwardly, you chided yourself. You didn't need to eat him. There were animals for that. It was _wrong_ to eat people.

At the same time, though, you hadn't been full since you got here, not really sated.

Maybe he had other, normal food with him...? No. You couldn't just rob him.

You followed him carefully overhead as he moved in the general direction of the river. From the treeline you could see him setting up a campfire, and then a short distance away he threw something onto an empty patch of ground...

Oh! A capsule house!

It was small, probably no more than a one-room cabin. There seemed to be solar panels on the top, though, and an air-conditioning unit half out one of the two windows.

You wanted it. Immediately.

But again, you told yourself that you couldn't just take things from people simply because you wanted them. Cell might have worked that way, but you didn't. Well, wouldn't anymore. 

Over the next few hours, he caught several fish and strung them up over the fire. You weren't a fan of sweetfish, but nevertheless the smell was...how long _had_ it been since you'd eaten any meat?

Too long, you decided.

You moved down behind a tree and continued trying not to simply go over. It wasn't even just the food, it was...it was seeing another human. A normal human, and then not having to eat them, or fear from them. At a distance, it was...nice. 

As the sun made its way down and it began to get darker, you started to get hungry as well. Once again, the instinct to pounce was present. It would be easy. And there were things he had that you needed, or could find use for. 

_One doesn't blame the lion for eating the antelope_. Cell's words, ones he'd repeated several times, rang in your ears and you cringed. 

When you looked back to the fire, the hunter was gone. Briefly, you panicked. But then you thought, he wouldn't have brought that gun along for no reason, he was probably thinking of-- 

"What th'hell're you?" 

There was a gun muzzle pressed into your back. 

"I--I was just--" 

"And why've you been followin' me?" 

"How did you know I was following you?" 

The gun drew back. 

You turned around, but didn't otherwise move. The hunter still had his rifle pointed at you, just not directly pressed against you. Your tail curved outward a bit. 

"I figured something was. Now, lady, you got to the count of three to explain yourself--" 

"But I haven't done anything!" You protested. 

"I don't take kindly to thievin' types, either. Again, you got 'til I count to three to tell me what you were doing before I blow your brains all over this tree." 

"Look, I--" 

"One." 

"I don't mean to--I was just--" 

"Two." He pumped the rifle. 

You shut your eyes and just as he was about to call "three" forced the end of your tail into his back. 

"Ah!" The hunter fell forward--whether more out of shock or pain, you didn't know. But you weren't ready for him to try anything more. 

Pulse, contract... 

Food... 

The hunter tried to get up but it was only a matter of seconds before he was unable to. Within a few minutes, he was gone, save for the clothes and the gun. 

You picked up both and headed back to the campsite. The clothes were tossed into the fire, and the gun...well, you weren't sure what to do with it. You couldn't just keep it. 

You moved into the capsule house, the inside of which rather looked like a traditional hunting cabin. There were a few fox heads on the wall, and one or two mounted fish. There was a cabinet which you found held MREs (you wrinkled your nose at that), dried fruit, and various little tinned foods. There was a bed in the far right corner, a very nice four poster. 

The left side of the room seemed to have a wardrobe and a gun cabinet (which itself had a collection of oddly shaped knives in the lower drawers), as well as an easy chair. 

The bag he'd been carrying was next to the easy chair and within it you found mostly food and water, but there was a first aid kit too. And, you were silently happy about this--a wallet with a decent amount of money in it. 

Spoils, you thought. Exp up, found items. 

If anyone found you you'd just say you were a lady friend of his or something. 

And then you'd just have to... 

...well, you weren't doing this because you _wanted_ to. You were doing it because you had to. 

So before you could reason yourself out of it, you went outside to put that fire out, once you were sure the clothes were all burned), then headed back inside and lay down on the bed. 

It was odd. 

You'd gotten used to cots. Or uncomfortable beds. 

And you'd gotten used to Cell being there. 

It took you hours to get to sleep. 

Not that you would admit the reason.


	9. Rattle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Cell is still on your mind...at least it's no longer overpowering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory TFS reference.

### Rattle

*The Past, Er, Future* 

"I don't see why you keep those in all the time. Can you even hear me?" 

"Yes, Cell, I can hear you. And besides, it's music, and these flights are getting pretty long. I can't just stare at you the whole time." 

Then he gave you one of his infamous looks. 

"Well, I could," you said quickly, "But it ruins the effect." 

"What are you even listening to?" 

"Just songs, like I used to play for you." You shrugged, "It's hard to say any particular kind of music. I listen to a lot of different stuff." 

The look he gave you then was...indistinct. But from the way he moves closer, you can almost tell what he's thinking. Maybe he missed it? 

You took out one earbud and offer it to him. It was odd, how...comfortable you'd gotten. You were still afraid of him, but as he never actually hurt you (on purpose, anyway), things were evening out. 

He held the earbud up to the side of his face, near that shape that you assumed contained the equivalent of ears. 

_And you remember the jingles used to go...oh a oh...you were the first one...oh a oh..._

It seemed to amuse Cell, because he'd produced a chuckle. Your face went a bit red, but before you could move away his tail had curled loosely around yours. 

_You were the last one_

And for some strange reason, after that, the song was a daily request. There was, you presumed, some kind of scientific explanation--perhaps he associated it with his time back in the tube, when you looked after him, and he remembered. 

Oh well. Maybe there was still a chance to work on him. Maybe it wasn't too late. 

* * *

*Present Day* 

Little memories wandered in and out on a near-constant basis, and each time you had to remind yourself that he was still around, just...burrowing. He'd be underground for a while, but he'd be back.

He'd be back, and you'd be safe.

After that period, you were both massively relieved and just a little bit worried.

The thought of him was no longer urgent, but it ran in the back of your mind like a series of little impulses, like malware attached to the recovery program...

You shook your head at that thought. Even after everything you were still a little too nerdy. Maybe it was just your brain's desperate attempt for decent stimulation.

Today, you'd managed to get lucky enough to find a rather large buck, and he'd made a fairly decent meal. You found that you were quickly getting used to eating this way--it was far less strain on your teeth, and in any case you weren't being exposed to any of those preservatives that everyone was always so worried about.

 _In my mind and in my car, we can't rewind, we've gone too far..._

You were so glad you'd thought to bring your iPod back with you. Aside from wringing out the boredom, it was comforting to have your favorite music around. You were still trying to figure out a course of action regarding taking a look around the nearest city, but to be honest, the idea was...well, you just weren't sure that it'd be such a good idea. 

The song practically blasted in your earbuds as you were heading home--you'd moved the Capsule house a little farther up the river, but that was it--you heard voices along the same trail that the hunter from before went down. You paused the music and then looked down at the trail.

"I'm telling you, he said he was going to go check something out and then he never called back."

"He probably just went off the grid. You know him, he does that now and again." a second one said.

"Yeah," said another voice, "And he might've been drunk, too, for all we know, and you know the crazy shit he says he sees when he's drunk." 

"Look, I just want to make sure, okay?" 

This was bad. Very bad. 

Well, it's not as if you couldn't take care of them too, but...still...you'd prefer not to. As long as they didn't get too...adventurous. 

Unfortunately, after investigating the usual spot (and with several remarks about it) they started to search up and down the river. The closer they got to it, the antsier you got. 

If they found it, you'd have to...no, no, you didn't have to do anything... 

You didn't have to. 

But they moved all around the area, until finally, they did stumble across the place where you'd put the house. 

"Is he in there?" called the first one, as the second and third men walked inside. 

"Nope. It's his place for sure but he's not here. It looks like someone's been using it," the second one said. 

"Look, he's probably out setting up a trap or he's in a deer stand or something," the third added, "He's fine." 

You leaned down a little bit more in the tree, and suddenly, your footing shifted on the branch that a moment ago had felt perfectly solid. 

_Snap_. 

"What the hell--" 

You stood up quickly, but they turned around--the second one had drawn his gun. "Who are you?" 

"I'm--I was seeing your friend in there. Except he's not here, he went out--" you talked quickly, but felt yourself panic when the first man glanced into the gun cabinet. You'd put the man's rifle back into it until you could think what to do... 

"He never goes anywhere without this," the first man said, taking out the rifle. 

"He said he was going fishing." You spoke it just as quickly, and with a little horror you realized that they all looked immediately suspicious. 

"No, I mean it. He never goes anywhere without it when he's out in wild bits like this." 

You had to do something. 

Before you even knew what you were doing, you'd lunged the the second one, dealing a blow to the side of his head that sent him into the wall. As your tail jabbed roughly into the third's neck (enough to cause a spray of blood), the first one raised his gun-- 

\--the bullet went right through the right side of your abdomen, but the blood, aside from making you nauseous, seemed to enrage you as well. You turned, striking him hard across the face. There was an audible crack, and he didn't move again. 

You clenched your hand over the wound, and took a deep breath. Well this was a hell of a way to die! 

But you found an overwhelming urge to focus on the bloody area, and as you did, a tingling sensation spread over it and the surrounding area. Your racing heart began to slow after nearly a minute of agony. For a moment, you were afraid. 

You looked down to see how bad the blood was... 

...and though your shirt was stained red, all that was under it was perfectly smooth skin. 

It was as if you'd never been shot.


	10. Level of Violence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory four-year gap skip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More TFS referencing.

### Level of Violence

You'd taken a swiss army knife that one of the men was carrying and tested your little ability several times. Each cut you made had, once you focused on it, healed up completely. It had to be something Gero had done--you certainly weren't able to close wounds like that before you'd had that experimenting done on you.

It was easy enough to clean up the little amount of blood, but really, you were just eager to get out of here. If you didn't, friends of these guys would probably show up as well. It'd be a never-ending parade of people who wondered where their loved ones had gone, they said they'd be there, they aren't there, oh god what happened we need to go and find them! 

You didn't find much on them worth anything. There were the guns, but with a lack of anything better to do you just loaded them into the gun cabinet. They had wallets (and a little money, which you quickly appropriated). One of them was a bit smaller than the rest, so you took his shirt to replace your own bloody one. Your tail made it awkward, but there was very little else you could do anyway.

The rest of the clothes, as before, were burned, and the bodies were taken care of. 

* * *

You were careful to move into the city at night, and from there it...it just somehow escalated. 

It started with a few guys thinking they could mug you. That, you hadn't felt a shred of guilt for. They'd asked for that. On the upside of it, you also got a coat long enough to hide your tail, so that was a plus. And with the money you got from their wallets, you were able to get food--honest to god food.

Money became less of an issue as time went on. You only got what you needed, when you needed it. And only from those like the thugs who took things from others; somehow it was more comforting to do things that way; the city would not be any worse off for the loss of a few criminals.

Soon it was drunks at the bar. Men who never seemed to go anywhere else. You were saving them from the life they drank to forget; you told yourself it was merciful.

Then it was the businessman you heard in the bar, bragging to his buddies about the women he had on the side. His wife would be better off without him.

After that one, however, you moved on. It was a miracle that you hadn't been found out yet--at least, that was how you felt. The disappearance of that businessman had gotten quite a bit of attention and you were not in the least eager to become a suspect in anyone's investigation. 

Two and a half more years. More cities, more criminals, more _utter scum who deserved to be eaten_ , or poor souls you were putting out of their misery. Mostly men--they were easier to lure out, in your opinion, and they tended to have fewer clothes to get rid of afterwards.

That was when you got the tattoo.

It was a joke at first, something you'd considered after the businessman--a tiny red hourglass on your lower back that set off against your green skin rather nicely, in your opinion. The artist didn't react to it much, if at all, other than to ask how many men you went through to "earn" it. 

"Enough." You'd said. 

He'd only laughed. 

The days continued to pass, and when you moved to South City you could only think that things were as good as they were going to get. Your system was honed to what you believed to be near-perfection, you had a (relatively) stable income as a result, and best of all... 

...you were doing fine on your own. 

You were beginning to realize that you didn't need Cell. You could do just fine all by yourself. 

It wasn't as if he loved you. No--the only reason he'd ever even wanted you was because of that...whatever it was...that your body produced. It wasn't anything but Gero rigging him to be attracted to what you assumed was his only breeding opportunity. 

* * *

It was a victimless day. 

For whatever reason, you just weren't having luck. You could probably have found someone if you did some hard searching, but it was preferable to simply observe and strike if someone caught your fancy, or looked as if they were in need of your particular brand of mercy. 

But today, there weren't any. The police were out in force due to some parade or the other and you were just a little grumpy about the lack of food. It wasn't like you were going hungry or anything, but it seemed like you needed people now more than anything else. The more you consumed, the more you wanted... 

So you sat in the corner of your usual bar haunt, munching somewhat grumpily on a burger and fries. At the very least you could soothe the usual hunger, if not the...unreasonable one. 

"Hey, can we get a tune on the jukebox?" one of the guys at a table a few feet away called out to a friend of his. 

"Aww, I was just gettin' relaxed!" 

"C'mon, you're the one with the singles." 

"So get some change from the bartender!" 

"I tried that, I--" 

That was all you needed to hear before slipping your earbuds in. Rather than listen to your usual library, though, you started one of your radio apps and selected a station that you'd listened to before coming to the past and could always remember as having a couple pretty entertaining hosts on their afternoon show. It was nice to carry around your favorites, but to be quite honest, sometimes you just wanted the commercials, the not knowing what would come next--all of that. 

"...The East City Westmen are becoming increasingly late. Of course, maybe they're just scared!" 

"Come on now, TJ, just because their season hasn't gone well doesn't mean they're going to run!" 

"You never know these days. Alriiiiighty, looks like it's time for our request hour! Hello, caller! What can TJ and the Wombat do for you?" 

"Yes, ah--" 

Your eyes widened. 

"--hang on, give me a second." 

That voice... 

" _Please don't kill me, I have kids_ \--" there was a scream and then a reply. 

"Then I'm doing you a favor." 

The screaming died away, and he went on, "Could you play Video Killed The Radio Star?" 

"Well...this is a pop station, but you know what, killer, we're going to make an exception in your case!" The tone was desperately upbeat, and had you been more aware you'd have realized that he was the only one speaking now. 

"Aw, thanks, guys. By the way, can I make a shoutout? Do you guys do those anymore?" 

"Sure! We're feeling pretty open today!" 

"Good!" 

The sound of Cell'ss voice fell over you like the scent of the liquor--tempting and dangerous all at once. You hated and loved it, despised and craved it. Why, why...? Why now, when you'd begun to deal with being on your own again? 

"...find me, before I find you. Won't that be fun..." 

No, you kept thinking. No. 

"...birdie?" 

Radio silence.


	11. Topi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will they be trouble? And what about _her_?

### Topi

For some reason your first thought was to go to Gero's lab. 

You didn't trust your gut, but that was what it said, and in the end you decided to go. In any case, it was about time for you to move out of that city anyway. Maybe...maybe there would be something in the lab that would help you. The dates coincided--if Cell was out and about, the androids most definitely were, and there was a slim chance that Gero wouldn't be in the lab but keeping track of him. Or them. 

You just felt as if the lab was important. 

One short flight later, you found it. Or at least, where it _had_ been. A pile of rubble seemed to be all that was left of it, but maybe the sublab was still there? 

After pulling aside some of the rocks (when had you gotten this strong? Some of these were pretty big!), you found the ladder and took flight to move down it. 

You remembered it like it was yesterday, this walk. Down the hallway to another set of doors, which you would push open and then... 

...and then... 

You couldn't explain what happened next in any other way than a scent hitting your nose and inspiring anger. Whatever you were smelling didn't disgust you, it simply made you upset. The scent, and the feeling, only got stronger the farther into the room you went. What the hell was going on? 

Then you checked over the tank Cell's embryo was in. You could figure out what to do about it later--but for now, you would leave it be. He wasn't even an infant yet; he was too small to survive outside, that was for sure. 

Everything seemed to be in working order with the attached console, and he was receiving all the right nutrients. There appeared to be quite a large amount of them stored away. Perhaps this version of Gero was afraid of what the androids might do, and planned for the long haul? 

The same table was off to the side, and on it you saw several technical papers. On closer inspection, you realized that they were the plans Gero had laid out for 17 and 18. Lapis and Lazuli, huh? Those weren't names you'd have guessed were theirs. These weren't something you needed to concern yourself with anyway. 

As you looked away, you noticed another tank in the corner. 

Curiosity was piqued. You didn't remember there ever being a second one, so why...? 

You approached, and once you could fully see what was in the tank, your breath caught in your throat. 

It was a woman. 

Well--it was obviously female, anyway. It looked as if Gero had tried to do to her what he had to you, except that she looked much more, well, like him. There were no longer breasts, but a chest like his and some odd sort of gem. No hair, but a tiny crest. The tail was also different, it was much larger than your own. 

As you were studying this...thing...the console gave a short series of beeps and from one side of the tank you could hear a "tsss" noise, like something being sprayed. What followed was an even stronger blast of that scent, and an equally intense burst of anger. 

Perhaps this female had her own pheromones tailored to attract Cell? 

It didn't take much thought to lead you to another conclusion. Maybe the reason you were angry is because the scent was from a "competing" female. It may or may not have been intended, although when you considered it, it made sense. If one female didn't work out, it was best to engineer them to be angered by one another's scents so that they would fight, no doubt resulting in the first one's death. 

You hated to admit that it was genius, but it was, and it was working. Rationally, you knew that she was probably in the same situation you were. She'd probably been kidnapped the same as... 

Huh. 

You realized that you didn't even know who she was. It was hard to say just from her appearance alone, and you typed at the console, moving through the menus until you found her name. 

_(Y/n) (Lastname)_

It was you. 

It was _you_! 

Or at least, another you. 

After five minutes there was another spray of what you assumed were your--her--pheromones. It made sense, she was not yet out of the tank and spreading it around herself, so Gero probably had to work to make sure that it would be everywhere once both she and Cell were out. 

No. 

No. 

From underneath four years of general solitude, of fearing his return, of hating yourself for wanting to see him again at any point there rose one thought that rose up and pulsed through your veins like the instinct to survive. 

_Cell is mine_ , you thought, very nearly growling and looking up at this, this...interloper. She would be out of the tank before the embryo, and if that happened...you might lose him. The idea was terrifying only for a moment, until the next course of action occurred to you. 

There were several options. You could cut off the nutrients and slowly starve her, or you could raise the temperature of the tank, or you could explode her bomb. It looked as if Gero had carefully inserted this into the list of options, with a note that due to her being much weaker than 17 and 18, it was not as powerful as the bombs in their chests. 

So she would die quickly. 

Good. 

You went with that option and were thankful that the last password you'd used in the future was the one that could get through the ensuing prompt. 

You heard a small, muffled explosion, and then the tank was obscured by a cloud of redness. 

It was you, but not you, at the same time. For a moment you were scared that eliminating her would erase your existence, but as the seconds ticked by...nothing happened. 

There was no guilt for what you'd done. No matter what reason had motivated you, you were saving her. This was not murder. It was mercy. 

As you were turning to leave, however, you heard voices up at the ladder. 

"If we find any..." 

"Doctor?" you stepped closer. If he was still here, well--you weren't helpless anymore. He'd disappear if he tried anything. 

What stepped through the doors, however, wasn't Dr. Gero. 

"What--who are you?" 

A bald, shorter man, and a lavender-haired taller one. 

"I'm not Cell!" you said suddenly, bringing your hands up. "Please, don't--" 

"We're not going to do anything, but you should explain who you are and why you're here," the lavender-haired one said. 

* * *

You explained what you could over the next ten minutes. Surprisingly, your explanation of "time travel" seemed not to be disbelieved, although the lavender-haired one who said his name was Trunks seemed eager to question you on Cell. 

"And you came with him? Didn't you know what he was?" 

"Even...in his smaller form he's dangerous," you said, "I was afraid of him. You have to understand....17 and 18 were out and about, and I...well...I had to stick close to him, too." 

"He protected you?" the bald one said. 

"Well...no," you lied, "He...it was just a good idea to stay close to him." 

"I see." Trunks looked up at the tank. "Is that why you're here?" 

"No. I came here thinking...there was something I could do to get rid of him. And...and them. I found some papers on 17 and 18, and another him. It's...it's all very confusing." 

"Well," Trunks said, leaning over the papers, "It looks like these could come in handy. My mother could probably make more use of them than I could...hrm, there's even something about the bombs in their chests." 

"Now if we could just get rid of Cell, everything would be fine." 

"Tien and Piccolo are out looking for him, but I don't know how well that's going, Krillin." 

"You can't find him?" you asked, "I think I could help you with that." 

"How?" 

You took off your jacket and held it out, and Trunks took it, despite his obvious confusion. 

"How will that help?" 

"My scent attracts him. Gero made sure of that." 

"Ew. But you're sure it'll work?" It was Krillin who spoke that time, and he sounded more than a little bit suspicious. And disgusted, but you couldn't blame him for that one. 

"Positive," you replied. "And I'll let you have it if I can stick close to you guys. And if it's not too much to ask, remove my bomb. Gero...Gero put one in me, too." With the second you, or female, gone, the adrenaline-fueled _mine_ rage had subsided, and your logical side was coming back out. It was safer to stick to people who seemed as though they had a plan. And if Cell was gone...you'd be safer, you thought. You knew it to be true, despite what your gut was screaming at you. 

Things could go back to normal. 

Whatever that was. 

"Deal," Trunks replied. 

"And however else I can help, I will," You said, "I didn't work on the androids but...still." 

"Then it's settled," Krillin said. 

Yes. It was settled. 

You left with them, and were surprised at your own ability to ignore the death of the embryo. It wasn't the Cell you knew in any case. 

And though the upset had faded, though you were settling down, in the back of your mind came ambling through your mind the thought that had seized you so completely earlier. 

Cell is mine.


	12. Flights of Fancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're safe. From everything but yourself, anyway.

### Flights of Fancy

It was both relief and worry.

Krillin and Trunks seemed wary, but they were also nice. They seemed to understand your situation regarding Gero and your unwilling part in everything. You'd told them everything--everything except the fact that you'd eaten people. Somehow you didn't think they would be so friendly if they knew that you'd done that. 

You ended up going with Krillin to see this woman Bulma, and her father, whom he talked up as being the people to bring the blueprints to. 

"I'm (y/n)," you said--once he'd assured her that you weren't dangerous, "Krillin's...been telling me that you and your father could get something from the schematics of 17 and 18?" 

"Well, if anyone can, it's us," she replied, "Though with you working for Gero, you might come in handy as well. Did you participate in the experiments on these two?" 

"No. That was already done by the time I got into the picture, bombs and everything already in place. They seemed standoffish at best, and I'm sure Gero encouraged that." It wasn't entirely the truth. But really, you couldn't be blamed for being afraid of the two of them, considering the things they did once released. 

"What about Cell?" Krillin asked, "What do you know about him?" 

Your mind responded to this question rather oddly. 

He can't bear more than six hours of silence in a 24-hour period. He likes music being played for him. His genetics have been fine-tuned, redone, and fine-tuned yet again. He's rough when he deems it necessary, but it's not like he's doing it _maliciously_ or anything. You wouldn't call him evil--he's just a beast. 

What you actually said was, "You're going to have to be more specific than that." 

"Did you work on his genetic structure or anything like that?" Bulma's father spoke that time. 

"No," you replied, "Well, in a way, but not like you're probably thinking. I'm...somewhat of a guinea pig regarding him. If it worked on me, I'm guessing Gero figured it would work on Cell." 

"And the tail works?" 

"Yes, it does." 

"I'd ask why you didn't just leave, but I think I can safely guess that you didn't feel it would be an exemplary life choice." 

"No," you replied, shaking your head, "He told me that he put a bomb in me, same as he did them. I don't know where theirs are attached, but mine is right on my heart." 

"Well, in any case," Bulma said, "Dad, will the blueprints help?" 

"Oh, yes, they certainly will! With the specifications on their bombs, I'll be able to make a detonator. Easy work, but it will be tedious. Simple doesn't always mean fast, unfortunately." 

"Let's get a look at your bomb, then." Bulma nodded to you. "It doesn't look like any papers were left around regarding you, however, so we'll have to be a little careful." 

"He wouldn't have left them around," you replied with a shrug, "He wouldn't want me stumbling onto them." 

* * *

The bomb was, in fact, not all that big. 

It had been situated just under the collarbone, and looked something like a pacemaker. They'd agreed to remove it, and that's just what had happened. Not wanting to risk handling it wrong, Bulma had called in both a cardiac surgeon and what you assumed was some kind of bomb technician. It seemed that Gero's name was almost all it took for the situation to become clear to them--although you'd insisted on keeping your tail hidden. 

And she hadn't said a word, just agreed that it was for the best. 

The surgery itself took...you weren't even sure how long, but you knew the time to recover from the anesthesia's after-effects was at least two hours, and then on top of that you'd had to sleep as well. You went looking for Bulma and found her in the same little lab area you'd come into with Krillin. 

"I'm sorry to bother you," you replied, "I just wanted to know if there was anything...useful...I could do?" 

"Not especially." Bulma was focused on the computer in front of her, "I'm almost done with the detonator. Are you sure you should be up right now?" 

"I feel fine. Really, I just needed to get up and around so I could find something to do. Um...so is there any word on Cell?" 

"A few hours ago, sure." She seemed amused, and went on, "Krillin gave the jacket to Tien and Piccolo--that's a couple more of mine and Goku's friends--and they ran into him." 

"He probably wasn't very happy," you said. 

"Excellent guess. He managed to get away, _again_...after calling them cockteases." 

You shook your head. "It was worth a try, at least." 

"Aaaaaaaand done." She grinned, and stood up, "Those androids won't know what hit 'em. Listen, you're welcome to hang around until this...whole thing's resolved. Then you can figure out what to do from there." 

"Really, I don't know how to repay you for all this," you said quickly, "The surgery, and the letting me stay here, and...all that." 

"Oh, don't worry about it. Capsule Corp's been home base to stranger things than you. We once had a whole planet's worth of aliens here until their planet could get sorted!" 

"Room and board must have been hell." 

"Not really, no. They weren't a species that needs to eat. They only needed water." 

"Fascinating!" 

"Right? Well, look. I'm going to go deliver this to the others," Bulma picked up the detonator first, and then Trunks, "I'll see you later, I guess?" 

* * *

You were, to say the least, very uncomfortable, but after a meal you managed to settle down ever so slightly. There was a pretty large room a couple hallways over that had a TV so you spent a couple hours avoiding any news channels that talked about Cell and instead watching a cooking show, bits of a pop concert, and any number of short anime episodes. 

Guilt crept in, but you beat it back. It was for the best. Cell wasn't going to stop until he had what he needed to kill Goku, and probably a whole hell of a lot of other people along the way. 

You were doing him a favor. Gero had damaged him, and there was nothing more that could be done. 

It was more merciful this way. 

So despite those creeping tendrils of doubt, despite the lingering desire to see him again, you resisted. Somehow, it was...getting easier. 

Halfway through some episode involving a rotten teenager and some enchanted notebook trying to get some girl's name, you heard the door open. 

In walked Bulma, and several others you didn't recognize. Two with spiky hair, one short and pale--and then, of course, Krillin and Trunks. 

"This is (y/n)," Bulma said, to the ones whom you hadn't met, before turning to you, "I've explained as best I can." 

"Right," you said, walking over, "What's happened? I've...kind of been out of it for most of the last day or so." 

"You didn't feel that power level earlier?" Trunks asked. 

"No," you shook your head, "That's a thing?" 

"So this is the female then?" Vegeta interrupted by walking up to you, "I'd have thought she'd be with Cell right now." 

"I don't even know where he is, and I don't want to know, either." 

Something happened when he approached, however. 

You got nervous. You took a deep breath to steady yourself. 

It was a mistake. 

A big mistake. 

Wafting from Vegeta's general person was a scent that reached down into your core and yanked...something...straight up into your throat. Suddenly, you wanted something. Someone. Your mind offered Cell, but you dismissed it. 

Barely. 

Subconsciously, your tail seemed to pull itself to the right. 

"So you aren't a fighter, then." 

"No," you said, holding the end of your tail in plain sight--clutched against your chest so they could see you weren't planning anything, "I'm not. I wasn't made to fight." 

"Then you aren't even well put-together. You're just a genetic mess." 

Right, yes. 

You couldn't argue with that, to be honest. 

"Gero wanted him to have a female." 

He seemed to lose interest at that, and wandered off to stand near the window. Far from being offended--you were glad. He seemed too hostile, and to be honest you couldn't blame him. 

The smell, however, lingered. Oh, gods, did it linger. 

Before you could wonder much about it, Trunks approached, seeming to bring a fresh wave of it with him. It took everything you had not to lean in close for more. 

"So can he be defeated?" you asked. 

"We're working on it," he replied, "We just have to watch the news for now. He gave some kind of cryptic warning about keeping an eye on it." 

"Good. The sooner he's gone the better." You said the words, but they felt hollow. Something within prodded your mind as if to say, you don't really _believe_ that, now do you? "Were you fighting him before you came here?" 

The one called Vegeta seemed to grumble. Trunks just nodded. 

That explained it. That explained the overpowering scent. It had to have come from Cell. 

It was unfair. 

You were finally getting to a point where you'd be free of him. Why was this happening _now_? 

"What are we waiting for, exactly? Is he going to make some kind of announcement?" 

"If I had to hazard a guess, yeah," Krillin said. 

"Great. So no idea what he's going to do or when." You sighed and looked back at the TV. 

After the end of the anime episode you were watching, the old man changed the channel to some exercise program, and you instead turned away to chat with Bulma. You mentioned your accelerated healing and she told you of someone named Piccolo, from whom Cell's own regeneration abilities had come. So that puzzle was finally explained. 

Your head was all kinds of muddled. That damnable scent was gone, but you still had the feeling of _go find him_ , and it was wreaking havoc with your ability to look anything like holding it together. 

But you told yourself you'd be fine. 

It didn't mean you had to go after him. You didn't even know where he was in any case, and it wasn't as if you could sense his energy. 

You instead tried to think of what you would do once he was defeated. Your qualifications spoke for themselves, but as far as working for Gero as long as you had...his name probably didn't carry any lingering positive weight. A job in the sciences was probably completely out of the question; you'd be lucky to get janitorial work in a lab, much less actually working in the field that, despite everything, you still loved. 

You'd figure something out. 

And then there was a scream. You turned to look at the TV, the source of it, and-- 

\--was that him? 

That _was_ him. That was Cell! 

He looked so...he was just... 

...different. 

He looked taller than before, although you weren't sure if that was because you hadn't seen him in so long. The almost lanky form you were so familiar with had blossomed into one purely muscular. The general area of his neck and up to the point where his shoulders were had skin of an ivory hue (that his hands for some reason shared)... 

Then when the channel was changed to the next studio he apparently burst through, you got the first look at his face, which had the same skin as his neck. Then your attention strayed to the splash of color on his face--the purple, and yellow, and to top it all off, a set of beautiful red eyes that unknowingly met your own as he looked into the camera. 

There was a sudden influx of pride. 

And desire. 

With a great effort you remained silent as the channel changed twice more and he entered a news studio. 

"So this is what he meant," you heard Trunks say. 

You watched, too busy studying Cell's body to hear much of what he was saying. Your breathing was beginning to speed up, to say nothing of your heart rate... 

But you knew better. To go would be the worst idea possible. You'd probably never get away from him. 

Besides, it wasn't as if you knew-- 

"The tournament will take place one week from today at the coordinates of 28 KS point 5." 

\--but of course, he could be lying. 

Thankfully everyone was too busy watching the television to really notice you moving away. You took a seat at the table in the back of the room and took a deep breath as Cell finished his little broadcast. 

You weren't going to go. 

You weren't going to go. 

But the scent, and the sight of him, it was all so overwhelming--to stay away, when every instinct revolted against the very thought! 

_No_ , you told yourself, _You are a rational person, and going off to be with him would be the absolute least rational thing you could possibly do. He's planning to kill these people who've been so kind to you_. 

But those people were not your powerful mate, now were they?


	13. Nuptial Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something irrational, primal, drives you. It's not something you can reason away, and there's only one thing it can lead you to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it a threesome if two of the pairing are technically the same person?

### Nuptial Gift

The extreme urgency faded, but the need was still there, and thankfully they were too busy worrying about Cell's announcement and the week they'd been given to really bother much with your problems. It would save you the trouble of lying about a sudden sense of nausea or a headache or something like that.

You excused yourself and headed out into the hall, figuring that you needed some time alone to actually think this over. There were enough corridors and such in this place that you could probably walk all afternoon and still not cover most of it. You needed to get away from the others...

...and away from that smell.

You recalled the past, or rather, the future. He had been fun, in a way, but it was more in the sense of delinquency than anything else. He'd given you the ability not to care what someone else thought of your activities. You were the predator, after all. What does a predator care for the opinion of its prey?

And gradually, you'd stopped telling yourself it was wrong. You'd managed to put the tail to use giving either well-deserved or merciful endings to those you did happen to...eat.

Maybe it was just a losing battle. Maybe you were just fooling yourself. 

Maybe you were just as bad as he was.

As angry as the others were at Cell, as determined as they were to beat him, you had to wonder--if they knew what you yourself had done, wouldn't they feel the same way about you? Or would they assume that he'd made you do it?

No.

No, you couldn't think like that. You couldn't keep thinking of yourself in relation to him; you were your own person and despite everything Gero had done to ensure otherwise you were capable of making your own decisions. It was just going to take extra effort to stay on the straight and narrow, as it were. There was just a slight handicap, but you were sure you could do it.

You could do it.

You could...

You just needed some air, that's all.

Clear your head, sort of thing. So you went on out into one of the outside, almost parklike areas. 

Flowers, trees. Mrs. Briefs was a wonderful gardener. 

Almost unnaturally so. Though you supposed with the kind of money that she had, she'd get the best seeds, the best fertilizer... 

You took to flight and glanced down at the flowerbeds. How beautiful they looked from above. 

You remembered the time or two when Cell had tried bringing you flowers. He tended to pick up the more weedy ones, but you'd had the sense to accept them with a smile. He'd tried, and expressed frustration on the last occasion because he didn't know what to do automatically. 

'What does instinct tell you?' you'd asked him. It was more curiosity about what Gero would have let him know than anything else, but you were fairly certain of the answer. 

He'd answered by confirming your suspicions, and despite feeling a little desirous of more romantic behavior...that was one of the first moments you'd wondered why you were softening toward Cell. 

You knew better than to ask him again. But you did ask why he stopped bringing flowers. 

The answer was very simple: their scents interfered with yours, and he didn't like that. 

Absently, you drifted in another direction. There was a sweet kind of chemical smell on the wind...probably some factory or the other making scented bleach. Who knew for sure. 

Instinct. That's what it kept boiling down to. 

Rather a sudden thought, really, but the more you thought about it, the clearer it got. As strange as it was, Gero had managed to rig up a way to make them work against you. With Cell, it was different--he'd had time from day one to fix how things would work. Genius, he was, mad, but quite, quite genius. 

It shouldn't be so hard to fight, you kept telling yourself. It shouldn't take herculean efforts just to avoid running straight off into the blue for the sake of... 

Right. Yes, that. 

You shut your eyes and turned on your back so you could look up at the clouds. It occurred to you that you hadn't watched the stars in a while...perhaps you could pick up the hobby again once this was all over. It might be hard to start again but it'd be nice to study the heavens again. 

With such thoughts did you pass the flight, pleasant drifts and occasional worries coming through one after the other; all the time the sweetness was on the edge of smelling like a whisper on the wind. Barely there, but all the more noticeable for being such. 

You landed when you realized that the landmarks were becoming unfamiliar. There'd been a farm here, some abandoned residence there--and most recently, large hills had begun to appear. On one of these, you'd landed, and you began to look around. It wouldn't be too hard to get back to the city at any rate, Capsule Corp. was a famous building and you... 

...you... 

Your heart skipped a beat when you looked down to the south of your current position. 

This was wrong. 

You shouldn't be here. 

So many thoughts coursed through your head when your eyes fell on him, on Cell, as he stood quietly in the middle of that arena of his. Why were you here? What purpose did this endeavor serve? How much more cliche could this possibly get? 

Why were you here indeed. It'd been four years. Four relatively peaceful years. There was literally no purpose in it. 

You continued to watch, thankful he was facing the other direction and thus leaving you in no position of danger. Watching, that would be enough. That would sate this burgeoning curiosity. 

_Can't stay long, too hot...too humid_ , you thought. 

Thankfully, a breeze had picked up. Wind at the back was always nice. 

Wait...wait...at the back. 

You were half in flight again when Cell's head tilted back, and though you were too far away to see it, you just _knew_ that he'd caught a whiff of something, and was inhaling to get a better grasp of what it was--might not even be you, maybe it would be that other scent you'd been following, maybe it... 

Slow heartbeat. 

His head was turning, and you stumbled back, but it was fatal; your eyes met. 

Too late you realized that it must have been his scent you'd picked up and followed, too late it crossed your mind that you shouldn't have come out here without a second or even a first word to anyone, too late you wished you'd never left that room. 

You shut your eyes for a brief, shaky moment, and when you opened them again he was gone. There was a step backward...directly into something solid, and you found yourself praying, hoping that you were wrong, but one nervous deep breath told you all you needed to know. 

It was him. 

You expected a lot of things, to be honest. Him to pounce on you, him to get angry and demand to know why you'd just left his egg in the tree like that...but Cell managed to surprise you by picking you up and holding you at just the level where he could whisper in your ear. 

And his voice was brimming with pride, with victory. 

"I'm proud of you, birdie." 

Shallow breaths. That was the key. 

One of his arms was at your waist, securing you, but the other, along with its hand, and...claws...was tracing over your neck. 

"Why?" you managed to squeak out. 

"Why, she asks..." 

You cringed as one of the claws broke the surface of your skin, but even more so at how silky his hand felt wiping away the blood, how delightful that resultant chuckle sounded... 

No. No. You bit your tongue, and that troublesome thought evacuated. 

"Ah, birdie...deny it all you like, but..." the claws all dug in--not deeply, but enough to cause more tiny wounds, and to still your body as he whispered once more, breath drifting across your ear, "...I know what you did." 

"I've eaten people," you said suddenly, "So what?" 

The claws raked down, and you gasped in sudden pain--focusing briefly on them, praying that the cuts they'd made would close up quickly. 

Another chuckle. This one you could feel reverberating, welling up from his chest. 

"Do you know what I smelled on that jacket those fools used to attract me?" 

"Me, obviously." You bit your lip this time, hard enough to taste blood. 

Gods, he smelled divine. You had to stop your tail drifting off to the side as he spoke again. 

"The scent of another female very much like you...just different enough, though, to tell it _wasn't_ you." 

Your mind dashed back to the scene in the lab, the anger, the... 

"And blood. Do you understand me, birdie? I smelled blood." 

"I haven't washed the thing in over a year, I--" 

Cell raked his claws over your collarbone, voice brightening ever more, "You killed for me." 

"I didn't," you protested, "It--she--" 

And then, quite suddenly, you were turned around. You remained level, though keeping flight was a bit difficult considering how nervous you felt. 

You were now face to face with Cell, and it was just as frightening and alluring as you'd thought. 

Those red eyes seemed to cut right through you, and the closer he moved the harder it was to control your breathing. Was he aware of his own...whatever that smell was? Did he know the effect it was having? 

Your chin was tilted upward. 

He gave the most enraging, terrifying... _intoxicating_...smirk you could possibly imagine. 

Closer...closer... 

You couldn't see or hear it, but behind Cell's back, his wings, such as they were, were fluttering ever so slightly, fanning out his pheromone, absolutely drowning you in a sea of it. 

With his face now a mere few inches from yours, you couldn't help but notice something else. Lips. He had lips now. 

You were made keenly aware of the fact at the first touch of them on where the wounds had been, and you gasped as he brushed them over the bloodied area. 

"I have a new trick to show you." 

It was barely audible, but you heard it all the same. 

"Would you like to see it?" 

"I..." Your tail was drifting, your heart racing, and your heat building, and no words would pass your lips. 

Above the haze you felt you were drowning in rose a single thought: he never had one before, what was really different n-...right... 

He stepped forward, and you moved back. But instead of the hillside you were expecting to be pressing your back to, you found your head being tilted back against a shoulder. 

Cell's shoulder. 

There were two of them. 

His double, however, was silent, and remained so as he looked over your neck. 

"You've learned to heal...good." 

"Why's it good?" you murmured, vaguely struggling...against what, you weren't sure, you just felt like you should. 

Cell met your eyes, and-- 

\--while his double behind you held you still, both his hands moved around your throat, and his claws pricked at the sides and back of your neck. 

"It doesn't feel so good, does it." 

His tone had gone from mild amusement to stone-cold evil. 

"What? What doesn't?" You cringed as his grip tightened; the pain brought you out of the fog even as you began to struggle for air, but all this did was puzzle you. What had happened? 

You quailed when his eyes narrowed. 

"Not being able to turn it off." 

"You mean--" 

"You think I _enjoy_ what you do to me?" 

You were trembling now--what little dregs of pleasure were worming their way in were finding themselves thrown into utter disarray as the fear began to grow. He was angry at you. He was angry at the fact that your scent pulled him in. It seemed that you both had the same problem. 

"Do you think I do?" you answered despite it, "You think I wanted this? You think I volunteered for it?" 

Cell did not answer. 

His anger, however fervent, seemed to pass a second later, but his voice was no less malicious, "I think I told you once before, little bird...but let me tell you again. I intend to serve my purpose. And you will serve yours." 

"Out here?!" 

No response. 

The double let go of you stepped back, and you whipped around, half-afraid he'd do something. But instead of that, it was Cell himself who acted--you found yourself on your knees with your face in the dirt. 

The fluttering, unbeknownst to you, continued. 

Your clothes were tugged off from what felt like every direction. Cell and his double were divesting you of it all, and soon enough you were bare beneath both sets of eyes. 

Cell wound your ponytail over and about his hand, and tugged you up by it--just in time for the double to... 

Oh. 

_Oh_. So THAT'S what he'd been intending to do. 

You tried to push yourself up, but Cell pushed you right back down and his hands moved back down to your hips. 

He'd never tried it this way before, was all you could think. He'd always preferred to see the look on your face, to hear the sounds you'd make. 

Maybe he simply wanted to remind you where you stood. Or didn't stand. 

Most unfortunate, however, was that despite all this inner turmoil, despite the fear of him...your body was already good and ready for him (and your tail was off to the right again--at least that mystery was explained). 

You felt the wetness of his unnatural penis slither over your entrance, and then back again. At the same time, the double's own emerged, and you felt your face flush when it wriggled and left a little trail on one side of your face. 

What would a normal man say right now? 

Probably 'I think you know what to do' or something like that. 

Cell, however, drove the point home. Literally. 

You yelped, not altogether sure he hadn't at least fractured something, and hardly had time to realize this was not a good idea before the reason why it wasn't was made abundantly clear. The tip of that disturbing thing surged past your lips and tickled at the back of your throat before you could say anything. 

There was no more resistance. You let yourself relax and go a bit slack, figuring that would make this whole thing easier. 

The double pushed your head up, and then back down--by accident, your tongue shifted, and you felt a slight twitch from him. 

Cell himself, meanwhile, was speeding up. The claws were digging into your hips and producing little trails of blood, mingling pain with the slight but building pleasure. Not that you had a lot of room to voice complaints; his double was essentially using your mouth (and for a few seconds at a time, your throat) as a living fleshlight and left you almost completely wordless. 

You felt so...used. 

But underneath that shame was something that whispered this was...well, that this was normal, like this was supposed to happen. Like he was meant to do this, and you were meant to submit. 

The scratches at your hips were becoming larger wounds the faster Cell moved, and the more you concentrated, and the more you tried to heal them, the tighter he seemed to clench. You could almost hear him laughing, saying something like, 'Now I don't have to be gentle.' 

You were rather rudely reminded of your own lack of movement when again, you felt the back of your throat being tickled. This time, you flicked your tongue up intentionally. It didn't seem to have a head, but maybe he'd have a sensitive spot in the same area regardless...and you knew you'd found one when he didn't push your head down. You continued, and ignored the stream of his fluids that was trickling down your chin. 

You were lost to it now, fully lost to the sensations, his scent, the heat of the moment. It had to continue, it had to keep going... 

When Cell moved over the same spot he'd favored exploiting before, he began to do so again, prompting you to continue your own little verbal assault, chasing that white-hot-- 

\--you nearly choked-- 

\--but the second you tasted that stream of salty chlorine (and spilled most of it on the ground in front of you as a result of not having swallowed it all fast enough), the double was gone, and it was just the two of you again. 

He didn't tell you not to hold your voice back. Because he didn't have to. As he had so many times before, didn't merely let the thrusts do all the work. It was turning, pushing forward and pulling back in addition to all the other movement, and you were already whimpering from the climb to the approaching peak. 

A clench at the dirt beneath you. 

A maddening, heightened sense. 

So close. 

So very close. 

Then, finally, it struck. Your body seized, and you cried out as orgasm ripped through you like a thunderbolt. 

Cell's wasn't far behind, but he made no sound--or if he did, you didn't hear it. You only felt his finish, even more of a blazing heat than yours. 

You were breathing heavily and not even caring to move. You just needed to lay there a minute. The hell with him if he wanted to go again... 

After resting that way for several minutes, he withdrew from you. 

"My pants," you mumbled as you managed to push yourself up. 

Cell laughed in response. It was such a light, airy sound...lyrical, beautiful to the auditory sense. Not the sort of thing one would expect from the man that just railed them into the ground. 

"I would hate for you to be seen like this." 

Seemed as though he was enjoying the view immensely, but he handed you your clothes regardless. You were fully dressed and drawing out the capsule with the hunter's home-away-from-home in it when he stopped you. 

"Not just yet." 

"You don't know what it's for," you said. Gods, all you wanted to do was sleep, what was he trying to prove now? 

"I thought I would bring you something. The intent was to give it first, but..." 

"Bullshit," you replied, "You and I both know that's not true." 

You were hearing locusts. Probably not a good thing, but it began to fade after half a minute or so, and as it did, your worry went with it. 

"I no longer need it, you see, and I'm sure I left you..." his claws trailed faux-innocently along your jawline, "...ravenous." 

"Who did you bring me?" 

"Does it matter?" 

Not really. 

He motioned to you to stay there, and you did, until he returned a few minutes later with a limp figure wrapped in a sheet of silk. 

"What's with the silk?" You unwrapped the man, whose head appeared first. You recoiled slightly at the odd-looking eye-pieces around the top of his face. "It's an android, Cell. I can't--" 

"Cyborg," he corrected, waving off your concern, "Someone the Red Ribbon Army hired to kill Goku, according to my father's files. Supposed to be quite strong, for a human...I thought he would be...sufficient." 

Someone hired to kill Goku, huh? 

Well. 

At least there was no need to feel guilty about this, then. 

What was left of the...whoever he was...was more than enough, and Cell seemed pleased at how eager you were to accept this little meal. You disposed of the mechanical leftovers, and that was that. 

He finally let you pop open the capsule house (tucked away on the other side of the hills, of course), and between the fullness of your stomach, the fact that you hadn't had a proper rest in a couple days, and the utter fatigue of just about every muscle in your body, you finally drifted off to sleep. 

Curled up in the bed and drugged to the gills on your mate.


	14. Convincing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You try to persuade Cell...maybe it'll work.

### Convincing

It was hard to imagine, but the fact was there all the same.

You missed what Cell now called his "Imperfect" form.

When you woke, he was over you and ready to go again; he'd turned you around and pushed your face into the pillow almost as soon as you were fully awake. As before, he was rough, gave barely any thought to foreplay, and had you not had the healing going on you'd most likely have lost a significant amount of blood--while in return you were barely able to break the skin on one of his hands. You'd clenched and held onto it for dear life but he'd still tugged it away in the end.

What was very clear very quickly was that Cell liked to mark you. He seemed to glory in raking those claws of his over whatever part of your body struck his fancy at that second, and your healing the wounds gave him the chance to create more.

He wasn't like that before.

Sure--he was rough in imperfect form. But you were pretty sure it was because he was more, well, bestial. He inflicted pain on you, sure, but...you could almost say that it was pure instinct--that he wasn't really sure what else to do, so he followed his gut, which said to dominate his female. As good a guess as anyone could make, really.

...maybe you were just fooling yourself, but the fact remained that he was better to you then. You missed him, badly. Laughingly, you thought that yes, his face was handsome, but--as you had seen in some iterations of the fairytale--you found yourself thinking that you cared not for the 'prince'; you wanted your beast. _He_ was the one you'd-- 

At least he was done with you fairly quickly. 

There was a slight grunt to signal the end of his attentions, a burst of inward heat, and then he relaxed. You healed the last of your wounds, and he did not make more. 

"It's really too bad," Cell said, as he withdrew and moved back a bit 

You turned (gingerly) onto your back to face him, and reached down to pull your pants back up. "About what?" 

"That you are incomplete." 

"You mean you don't like me as I am?" Why had you even asked that? It had just...slipped out... 

"You're only half-done," he said, "But nonetheless, you're mine." 

Instinct battled reason. He didn't even want you. But you belonged to him, this was what you were meant for. In desperation, your senses went straight for the one question that would simplify everything: 

"Why do you want me?" 

"Come now, birdie," he said, "You know the answer. You're mine, that's why." 

You expected it, really, but somehow it still hurt. All you were to him was property. A sexual opportunity, one that wouldn't expire after a single use. You were familiar, and compliant. 

And that was all. 

"And if I were to be completed?" 

"That would make things...definitely more interesting," Cell said, tracing a claw down the side of your cheek. 

"Maybe there's a way, then," you said. The feeling of betrayal had given you back the use of your senses. The pleasant scent he exuded was now more annoying than arousing. 

"Pray tell," he said, breaking the skin and wiping away the blood. 

"Gero's little lab wasn't the only place he kept information. When I first came to work for him, he was moving out of another lab and into that one." 

"So you think his plans would still be in this...other lab?" 

"It's worth a shot." 

"Then perhaps you should find it." 

He stood. You swung your legs over the side of the bed, but remained seated. 

"Aren't you worried about the...the Games you organized?" 

"Hardly," he said, "It will all be over very shortly." 

"Then why hold them at all?" 

"To give them false hope. To find someone worth fighting. To fulfill my purpose." 

"And then what?" you asked. 

"Blow up the planet, of course. I can't have anyone wishing them back with those dragonballs, now can I?" 

"What about me, hmm?" you asked. "I can't breathe in space." 

"True," he said. 

"And what then?" 

"Other challengers, naturally!" 

The idea came to you, out of nowhere. Maybe, maybe if you played this right... 

"You could always keep one dragonball yourself, you know, to prevent wishes being made. And wouldn't it be better if you had a...base...to come home to?" you asked. Leaning forward slightly (as he was facing you), you started stroking at the biogem between his legs. "Find new opponent. Beat the tar out of them. Come home." 

"To what?" It was an interesting tone. He was in a good mood and the tone was humorous, but curious at the same time. 

"Oh, I don't know...a world you rule...a people who've no choice but to hang onto your every word. A planet at the mercy of your every whim." You hoped the tone was as seductive to him as it sounded to you. "A...completed...woman, that can satisfy you." 

The sheath parted around your hand, which was soon dripping with the slimy substance that coated his penis. Gods, it was big, but, if you were really serious about this little plan, then you'd probably have to do much more, and worse. 

You leaned down a bit and took several inches of him into your mouth. Again, the taste of sweet chlorine invaded your taste buds, mixed somewhere in the back with a slight salty inflection. 

Cell didn't say a word. 

You drew back, and then went forward again, taking in more and giving yourself tiny breaks to breathe around him. You felt it at the back of your throat, but pushed onward. 

There was a hitch in Cell's breath when your tongue started dancing over his length. A second later you felt a clawed hand slip through your hair and push your head further down. 

You took a moment to draw a deep breath and then slowly inched forward, taking nearly the whole thing in before moving back again, and stayed in this pattern for several minutes. When you would go back to breathe, he would give you a few seconds before shoving you right back down again. At least he gave you that much. 

There was a chuckle. 

"You're right. It would be nice to have a place to come home to." 

You remained silent, for obvious reasons. 

"I did say I was going to blow it up though. Everyone will have seen it." 

You pulled completely off him, pre dangling, still connecting you, and replied, "There are things so much worse than death, wouldn't you agree?" 

Cell didn't have to make a single move, or tell you to get back down there--you did it without being told. The back and forth motion continued, and you felt him beginning to swell ever so slightly. 

One more deep breath, a push straight past your gag reflex to take the entire length of him, just in time for his end to arrive. There was a warming sensation, without even the obligation of having to taste it. 

Until he drew out, of course. 

"Alright, birdie," he said, in a somewhat more relaxed-sounding voice, "You've convinced me. Find the lab and become complete." 

You nodded, breathing a little raggedly as your oxygen intake was returning to normal. "And then what?" 

"That, (y/n), is for me to know, and you to find out."


	15. The Progenitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The old lab is still intact. But what's inside it?

### The Progenitors

The building was still intact, surprisingly. And...strangely abandoned, at least from the outside. The district wasn't that busy, or even that crowded, but it had a generally nice placement, so why wouldn't the city have reclaimed it somehow? 

The street was empty...but you dismissed the thought, and advanced. 

The glass door in front was broken, but there was no glass on the ground around it. You opened it and walked inside, wrinkling your nose at the sudden stench, like mildew and rotting meat. Had someone died in here? 

There were no bodies in sight. 

It was an office in the first area, like the lobby of a hospital or doctor's practice. There were papers on the floor, empty and broken chairs... 

You headed for a supply closet in one of the exam rooms near the back of the building, wondering if--yes, there it was. The switch. 

It clicked when you pressed it and the back of the closet drew down to reveal a flight of stairs. 

You took a deep breath, and began to move down them. 

Every instinct screamed to leave. To go back to those nice people that had helped you, to never even think of looking at Cell again. 

But the other half of you said that they'd never think to look here. And if there was something, here, that could help you get rid of him, you wanted to find it. 

The stairs came to an end. Shivering in the suddenly cold air, you advanced still. There were rows of what you'd call dead servers, but under a thin layer of dust you noted lights, and sounds of activity. 

Past them, you saw several rooms with computer consoles open to various figures and visuals. These rooms were cleaner, but not by much. 

Hm. 

You were heading back towards one of the computer rooms when a crackling sound echoed overhead. You stopped--and then there was a voice. 

"Stay right where you are." 

It was a halting, half-robotic voice, but all the same, you recognized it. 

That was Gero's voice. 

"It's (y/n)," you said. 

"She is in the other lab." 

"Was," you answered quickly, "I'm...I'm from the future. As is the Cell that's out and about right now." 

"And how do I know you are telling the truth? How do I know you aren't simply in costume?" the voice asked. 

"I have his blood under my fingernails," you replied. Among...other...bodily fluids residing in other parts of your body, but you weren't letting on about that. 

"Proceed into the third room on your right," said the voice. 

You took a deep breath, but obeyed, gasping when you walked inside. 

Looking up at you from a lab bench was a metallic endoskeleton. It appeared to be working on the guts of a console of some kind, as naturally as if it were a normal human. 

"What are you?" 

"Who," it said, "The correct question is, who am I. And if you knew to come here, then you already know who I am." 

"Doctor Gero." you replied. There was a part of you that was amazed, stunned, and in awe, and momentarily it rode roughshod over the fear and straight into the dormant scientist at your core. If this was him, he'd made history. "You...I can hardly believe it. You've done it." 

"Yes, well," he answered, "They may have thought they killed me, but I always have a backup plan." 

You wanted so badly to use what had been denied to you for so long, but first, you had to be sure you were safe. "Cell is going to blow up the planet. I'm pretty sure you don't want that, and--" 

"--and you came to me to find a way to destroy him?" 

"No. I didn't know you'd be here. I didn't know anything would be here, I just...formed a hypothesis and went looking for evidence." 

"You are curious," Gero's endoskeleton said, "But that will not help you. There is no need to worry about Cell." 

"No?" 

"Cell," he went on, turning away and heading towards a table, the top of which was littered with a variety of robotic parts, "Will not be a problem once that Goku dies. Contrary to what I know you are thinking, I do not want him to ...as you would put it, 'stick around.'" 

It felt like something you weren't supposed to hear. 

How could Gero speak that way of the creation he'd spent so much time on? 

"Why?" 

"Do you think," he replied, "That I would risk my life with such a volatile creature? He has the DNA of Son Goku, Vegeta, and Frieza, among others. To give a literary leaning to what they have given him--gluttony, pride, and wrath. I have infused deep in his genetics the leaning toward chaos, and, though I take a practical, gray view--evil. I cannot, will not, trust him." 

"It sounds like you plan to kill him," you said, "But wait--why bother to spend all that time making him, if you were only going to destroy him? Why bother to make me at all?" 

"In due time." Gero replied absently. He turned to tinker with the robotic parts on the table. 

"Don't you want the sample of his blood?" 

"Yes. You know where the supplies to do so are." 

He was the same Gero you'd always known, or near enough, anyway. He had simply moved into a better body, one that had no need for sleep or rest, it seemed. Shaking that thought off, you moved to the desk where the supplies for collecting blood samples were. The blood under your nails was dry, but it would suffice. 

"Am I correct in thinking," Gero said suddenly, "That his cruelty is what has persuaded you against him?" 

"It's..." you hesitated to reply, but did so anyway, "He was...he was different, before. When he first emerged from that shell, I mean." 

"Different? In what way?" 

If that man weren't robotic, you'd almost think that tone was humorous. 

"He was an animal," you said quickly, "He was...he was...fun, almost. This one is cold, cruel, and calculating; he views me as no more than a hole." 

But maybe, something in your head told you, just maybe, it was always that way. 

"That is not what is most important in this case." Gero replied in an odd, almost prideful tone. 

"Then what is?" 

"Your womb."


End file.
